The House of the Dragon
by Ghost
Summary: It's Harry's first year at Hogwarts and he quickly makes friends with the dependable Ron, the clever Hermione, the spirited Ginny and the charming Draco. But in which house will the Sorting Hat put him? AU.
1. The Boy Who Smiled

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter and the characters and events described therein are the copyrighted creations and property of Joanne "J.K." Rowling. While I will take tremendous liberties with the characterization and plot, I take no credit for the names and basic premise. This work of fanfiction is written only for the sake of entertainment, and as a homage to Rowling's work.

Notes: In regards to plot continuity, I will basically follow the movies rather then the novels. (To the extent I actually plan to follow Rowling's original plot, anyway.) I have, however, borrowed some of Rowling's wording for this chapter in an attempt of emulating some of the mood of the book. I expect this will fade out quickly as my story diverges from her, though. Anyway, the reason I rely on the movies for my narrative structure isn't because I prefer them to the books, but rather because the movies compress the plot a lot more, meaning less writing for me. Since I'm both lazy and doing this for fun, I'd rather not attempt to rewrite Rowling's entire creation. For the same reason, I will skip parts of the story I find uninteresting or unimportant, for example the bits with the Dursleys. I think we all know how those parts go anyway.

Having only recently started to recover from a very long (ca two years) period of serious writers block, this is the first story of any real substance I've been able to produce. With that in mind, I hope you'll all forgive me if I take it a bit easy to begin with, and then we'll just have to see where all this ends up. :)

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><p>Harry Potter and<p>

THE HOUSE OF THE DRAGON

Book 1: The Element of Surprise

Chapter 1: The Boy Who Smiled

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><p>September had gotten off to a good start. It was half passed ten and a rather pleasant day at the Kings Cross Station in London, where an eleven-year old boy with a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead pushed a trolley loaded with luggage plus one caged snowy owl in front of him. Next to him walked an enormous bearded man named Rubeus Hagrid. The boy's name was Harry Potter and so far this day had been the strangest, most amazing day of his entire life.<p>

As they walked, the huge man pulled a pocket watch from out of his rustic and somewhat eye-catching coat. His eyes widened as he looked at it.

"Blimey, is that the time?" he rumbled and turned to the boy. "Sorry, Harry, I've going to have to leave you. Dumbledore will be wanting his..." he patted the package hidden under his coat, then apparently remembered it was supposed to be a secret. "...Well, he'll be wanting to see me. Now, your train leaves in fifteen minutes. Here's your ticket." He handed Harry a train ticket. "And stick to it, Harry. That's _very _important. Stick to your ticket."

Harry took the ticket and looked at it. It read: _London to Hogwarts, for one way travel. Platform 9¾._

"Platform nine and..." Harry frowned. "But Hagrid, there must be a mistake. This says platform nine and three quarters. That doesn't make any..." But when he looked up, Hagrid had vanished without a trace. Harry stood there blinking for a moment, then sighed. "I wish he wouldn't do that."

In truth, Harry was still curious about the contents of the mysterious package Hagrid had picked up from the bizarre bank they'd visited earlier. However, he now had more pressing matters to worry about, such as finding his train before it left without him. So he kept walking, pushing the trolley in front of him, until he found himself facing the platforms. There was a big plastic number nine over one platform and a big plastic number ten over the one next to it.

_ Right, _Harry thought to himself._ The platform I want should be somewhere in the middle, then. Only, they don't seem to have built it yet._ He sighed again. "Brilliant." It dawned on him that he was stranded in the middle of a station with a trolley full of heavy stuff, a pocket full of wizard money and a large owl that was starting to attract him a lot of funny looks. He had an inkling that approaching a guards and asking about a non-existent platform wouldn't end well, but according to the large clock over the arrivals board, he now had ten minutes to get on the train and he had no idea how to do it.

The owl – who's name was Hedwig, by the way – gave him a squawk of sympathy.

Still, he had to try to find the right platform or he wouldn't get anywhere, least of all Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was just about to speak to a one of the guards after all when he heard a voice behind him: "You know, I'm perfectly capable of doing that myself. You're drawing the attention of the muggles."

Harry spun around. The speaker was a boy in his own age; pale, slender and neatly dressed, with platinum-blonde hair. He was overseeing a serious man in a dark suit pushing a trolley loaded with even more luggage then Harry's own, and on top of the luggage was a cage with an eagle owl even bigger then Hedwig.

"Um, excuse me," Harry tried.

The boy turned to him and smiled. "Oh, hello there. Nice owl. Are you going to Hogwarts too?"

"Y... Yes," Harry said. Looking past the boy, he found that the man with the luggage had mysteriously vanished. "Ah, only I can't seem to find the platform."

The boy raised an eyebrow. "Oh. Well, it's right over here." He walked over to the broad brick barrier separating platform nine and ten, not stopping even as he was about to hit the wall. Then, as Harry watched in amazement, he just vanished.

"See? Nothing to it," said his cheerful disembodied voice. "Well, see you on the train, then."

"Ah, o-okay," said Harry gaping slightly while trying to comprehend what he just saw.

At that moment a group of people approached from behind him, and he heard a female voice saying: "Packed full of muggles, of course. What's the station number, again?"

Harry turned to see a plump woman followed by four boys and a girl, all of them with flaming red hair. The children all brought luggage along and they too had an owl. As they came near him, the plump woman gave him a curious look and a smile. "Hello there! First time at Hogwarts? Ron and Ginny are both new too." She pointed at her two youngest children. The boy was tall, thin and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet and a long nose. The girl, however, had graciously only inherited the freckles, as well as the red hair that seemed to be a family trait.

"Yes," replied Harry. "The thing is, I'm not quite sure how..."

"How to get on to the platform?" the woman interrupted kindly. Harry nodded. "Not to worry. All you have to do is walk straight at the wall between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it. Better do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous about it. Go on!"

"Good luck," the girl named Ginny added.

Harry hesitated, common sense telling him that this was madness. But common sense hadn't been much use lately and he didn't want to keep the family behind him waiting, so he summed up all his courage and pushed his trolley around towards the barrier. Then he started to walk towards it, picking up his pace as he went. When the menacing brick wall didn't vanish in front of his eyes like he had hoped, he closed his eyes and ran, expecting to collide with it at any moment.

But there was no collision. He slowed down and opened his eyes. In front of him, a huge scarlet steam engine waited next to a platform packed with chattering people. Cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs and owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and scraping of trunks. Overhead, a sign read: _Platform 9¾: Hogwarts Express. _

He had done it!

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><p>Before long, all the students had boarded the train and soon the Hogwarts Express shot through the English countryside, powering on northward at a steady pace. Looking for a place to sit, Harry came upon a compartment that was empty save for one passenger whom Harry recognized as the polite blond boy from before. He was reading a newspaper, having already changed into the black Hogwarts robes, and didn't seem to notice Harry at first.<p>

Harry coughed to get his attention. "Hello again. Do you mind if I sit here?"

"Hm?" the boy looked at him and fired off a friendly smile. "Oh, we meet again. By all means, have a seat. I was getting a bit lonely all by myself anyway."

"Thanks," Harry said and sat down on the seat in front of the boy, who was still reading the newspaper. Taking a closer look, Harry was surprised to see that the people in the pictures were moving about.

"Hang on, the people in the pictures are moving about!" he said out-loud, before he could stop himself.

"Well, of course. You can't expect them sit still all day," said the boy with a chuckle. He folded the newspaper up and gave Harry a curious look. "Let me guess, you're a muggle-born?"

"Well, something like that," Harry said. "Only, not exactly. That's to say, I'm..."

But before he had time to explain his situation, the red-headed boy from before appeared and stuck his head into the compartment. "Anybody else sitting here?" he asked nervously. "Everywhere else is full."

"Not at all, the more the merrier," the blond boy said, turning to Harry. "Right?"

"Of course," Harry agreed.

Giving them both a thankful smile, the newcomer took a seat next to Harry. "I'm Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley."

"Name's Malfoy," the blond boy said. "Draco Malfoy."

Ron failed to hold down giggle. "Sorry," he said sheepishly, realizing he'd been rude.

"No, its alright," Draco said. "My parents are a bit old-fashioned, see. I know it sounds rather..."

"It's not so bad, is it?" Harry said in an attempt at diplomacy. "It's kinda cool. Sounds like a name out of a comic book."

"Thanks," Draco said. He frowned slightly. "I think."

"Anyway, I'm Harry," said Harry. "Harry Potter."

Ron and Draco stared at him, then they looked at each other, then stared at Harry again.

"_The_ Harry Potter?" Draco said.

"So... So it's true?" Ron said in amazement. "Do you really have the... the..."

"The what?" Harry asked.

Draco made a gesture to his forehead. "You know, the scar?"

"Oh, yeah," Harry lifted his bangs, giving them both an eyeful of the lightning-shaped mark.

"Wicked!" Ron exclaimed.

Draco nodded. "So, that's where You-Know-Who...?"

"Yes," Harry nodded, letting his hair down again. "But except for a lot of green light, I don't remember any of it. Honestly, a lot of people have been making a big deal of it but I didn't even know about Voldemort until today."

Ron gasped. "You said his name! I would have thought _you_ of all people..."

Harry sighed. "Look, I'm not trying to be brave or anything," he said, "I just never knew you weren't supposed to say his name. Like I said, all this wizard stuff is new to me." He sighed. "I bet I'll be the worst in the class."

"Oh, don't worry," Draco said. "You're still pure wizard, same as Ron and me. I'm sure you'll learn fast."

"Yeah," Ron said, "and besides, lots of muggle-born go to Hogwarts every year and they usually pick it up well enough."

There was a clattering outside in the corridor and an older woman with a cart full of what seemed to be wizard candy stuck her head into the compartment."Anything off the trolley, dears?" she asked.

Suddenly, Ron looked awkward and his ears turned slightly red as he produced a sad, lumpy package of sandwiches "No thanks," he muttered. "I'm all set."

Harry, who hadn't had any breakfast, now recalled that his pocket was full of precious metals and he was just contemplating buying everything the woman was carrying when Draco pulled out a handful of silver coinage from his own pocket. "Let's have some of everything, shall we?" he said.

When the lady with the trolley moved on, Draco had amassed a great pile of pumpkin pasties, cauldron cakes, licorice wands, Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, chocolate frogs and a number of other strange things Harry had never heard of in his life. Ron stared at Draco with almost as much amazement as he had just directed at Harry. "Hang on," he said. "I knew I recognized your name from somewhere. You're Lucius Malfoy's son, aren't you?"

"The one and only," Draco replied.

"What does that mean?" Harry asked.

"It means," Draco said with a grin, "that I can afford to buy a great big pile of sweets for myself and two others whenever I feel like it. Here you go, Weasley, have a pumpkin pastie on me!"

Ron took the pastie with an awed expression. Then he smiled broadly. "Draco, I think you are my new favourite person!"

And so they ended up eating their way through the sortiment of cakes and candies, Ron's sandwiches soon forgotten. Harry, who had never had friends to share candy with before, found it an almost blissful experience. As they were eating they spoke to one another. Ron pulled out a large, sleepy rat whom he introduced as Scabbers, and Draco explained that his owl – whom he had named Mordred – had been a gift from his father to commemorate his enrolment as Hogwarts. Harry soon found himself telling them both about his life with the Dursley's and the events that had lead him to where he was now.

"...and then Hagrid turned to Uncle Vernon," he told them, "and he said: Dry up, Dursley, you great prune! And then he bent the shotgun so the shot went straight through the roof!"

Ron and Draco both roared with laughter. "Oh, he did not!" Ron said, holding his sides.

"I would have liked to see that," Draco said, wiping a tear from his eye. "I really would."

"It was pretty funny," Harry said, picking one of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.

"You'll want to be careful with those," Ron said. "When they say every flavour, they _mean_ every flavour. There's chocolate and peppermint, marmelade, toffee..."

"...strawberry, coffee, tomato," Draco filled in, grabbing a handful of the colourful beans, "onion, spinach..."

"...liver and tripe," Ron finished. "And my brother George swears he got a bogey-flavoured one once!"

Harry and Draco both paused and looked down on the beans they were each about to put into their mouths and then, as one, they put them down again.

Harry decided to change the subject. "So, if the two of you are both from wizarding families, you must know loads of magic already, right?"

Draco hesitated. "Well, we're not really supposed to learn magic ahead of time. Aside from minor everyday stuff, anyway."

"Fred gave me a spell as to turn Scabbers yellow," Ron offered. "Want to see?"

"Yeah," Harry said, and Draco nodded.

Ron pulled a worn old wand out and cleared his throat in a dramatic way. He was just about recite a spell when compartment door slid open and a girl with rather bushy brown hair and a determined look on her face stepped inside. She gave the compartment a brief look and sighed. "Has anyone seen a toad?" she asked. "A boy named Neville has lost one."

The three boys shook their heads and Ron, who seemed a bit peeved he'd been interrupted, added an annoyed: "No, there aren't any toads here."

The girl didn't seem to listen, though, having caught sight of Ron's battered wand. "Oh, are you doing magic?" she asked and, not bothering to wait for a reply, took a seat in front of Ron. "Let's see then!"

Ron appeared a bit taken aback, but cleared his throat again and chanted: "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow! Turn this stupid fat rat yellow!"

He waved his wand but nothing happened – Scabbers remained a dull brownish grey and quietly fell asleep in Ron's lap.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" the girl asked. "Well, not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and they all worked out fine. I must say, I was ever so pleased when I got my letter. I mean, it's the best school for witchcraft and wizardry there is, or so I've heard. I've learnt all our course books by heart, naturally, I just hope that will be enough. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way. Who are you?" She said all this in one go.

Harry looked at Ron and Draco and was relieved to learn from their stunned expressions that they hadn't learned all their course books by heart either.

"Um, Draco," Draco stammered. "Draco Malfoy."

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

"Harry Potter," Harry introduced himself, "pleased to meet you."

Hermione's eyes went wide. "Holy cricket! Are you really? Harry Potter, I mean. I've read all about you, of course. I got a few extra book for back-up reading and you're in Modern Magical History and in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the 20th Century!"

Harry felt slightly dazed. "...I am?"

"Goodness! Didn't you know?" Hermione exclaimed. "I would have found out everything I could if it was me! Well, no matter. Do any of you know what House you will be in? I've been asking around and I hope I'm in Gryffindor. I hear Dumbledore himself was in it. But I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad either. Anyway, I better go look for Neville's toad. You two," she indicated Harry and Ron, "have better change, I expect we'll be there soon." Then she left, leaving the three boys still trying to digest what she had said.

"What was _that?"_ Ron asked.

"A bit bossy, wasn't she," Harry said.

"I like her!" Draco said. Noticing Harry and Ron giving him funny looks, he frowned. "What?"

"You're a bit of a queer fish, you know that?" Ron said, stuffing his wand back into his trunk. "Well, whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it."

"What house are your brothers in?" Harry asked.

"They're all Gryffindor," Ron said, looking gloomy again. "Well, except Fred, he's Ravenclaw. _That_ didn't please mom at all, let me tell you. It was the first time a Weasley didn't get into Gryffindor in generations, so now everyone's really getting their knickers in a twist wondering if me and Ginny are going to make it or if Fred jinxed us somehow."

"Are you and your sister twins?" Draco asked.

Ron shook his head. "Nah, that's Fred and George. Me and Ginny are just born on the same year. Though, Ginny was born on December 30. Came out two weeks early too, and mom says she's been rushing into things ever since. But it's really just luck she gets to go this year."

"Think she'll make it into Gryffindor?" Harry asked.

"Oh, I know she will," Ron sighed. "It's _me _I'm worried about."

"Don't fret, I'm sure you'll do fine no matter where you end up," Draco said. "It's not really that important, anyway. As for me, I expect I'll end up in Slytherin. The Sorting Hat seems to have a fondness of putting us Malfoys in Slytherin for some reason."

"Isn't that the house Vol... I mean, You-Know-Who was is?" Ron said. "I heard there wasn't a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin."

"Oh, don't be silly," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "If that was true, they'd just refuse to teach anyone sorted into Slytherin and send them all back home, wouldn't they?"

Ron considered this. "I hadn't thought of it that way."

Draco continued: "See, people are just overreacting because You-Know-Who was in Slytherin, that's all. It makes as much sense as saying nobody in Gryffindor can possibly go bad just because of Dumbledore. This may surprise you, Ron Weasley, but history is full of accomplished Slytherins who _didn't_ turn into mass-murdering lunatics. Let's not forget that Merlin himself was in Slytherin too, and they put _his_ face on a medal!"

"Okay, okay," Ron said, putting his hands up as if to fend off Draco's rant. "Sheesh. I'm starting to see why you fancy that girl."

Draco fell silent and turned slightly less pale. "I never said I fancied her," he mumbled, looking out the window.

Ron grinned. "_Of course _you didn't."

"Um, Ron?" said Harry, who had already started digging through his trunk. "The robes?"

"What? Oh!" Ron gasped. "Blimey! Harry, we have to hurry! We're almost at Hogwarts!"

While Harry and Ron rushed to put their robes on, Malfoy kept gazing out of the window as woods, twisting rivers and dark green hills flew by. Unseen by the other two, a smile had appeared on his face.


	2. A Sort of Judgement

Chapter 2: A Sort of Judgement

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><p>By the time the train arrived at its destination the sky was already dark. Harry, Ron and Draco disembarked onto a tiny dark platform along with a stream of other students, leaving their luggage behind since a message on the train let them know it would be taken to the school separately.<p>

The air was cold and Harry shivered, feeling decidedly nervous. Next to him, Ron had turned pale under his freckles and even the confident Draco seemed a bit on edge. But then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students and Harry heard a voice that immediately put him more at ease: _"Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here! _A'right there, Harry?"

Hagrid towered over the sea of students. Ron and Draco craned their necks to look at his big hairy face beaming a smile at them. "Whoa!" Ron gasped.

"This way, follow me!" Hagrid said, waving at them. _"Firs'-years! Any more firs'-years?"_

The trail of children followed Hagrid down a steep and narrow path, surrounded by almost complete darkness. To Harry it seemed that if he strayed just a step from the path, the darkness would swallow him up and he wouldn't be able to find the way again. Behind him, a somewhat snivelling voice whimpered: "Has anyone seen my toad? Oh dear, I think I've lost him again!"

"Yer all right about to get yer first sight of Hogwarts!" Hagrid declared in a jolly tone. "It's just around this here bend."

The path took a turn to the left, and the group of first-years suddenly let out a collective gasp of awe. They had arrived at the edge of vast, black lake and on the top of a hill on the far shore rose a great majestic castle with towers and turrets and windows sparkling against the starry sky.

"Quite a sight, ain't it?" Hagrid chuckled. Then he pointed at a fleet of little boats sitting in the water. "A'right then, everyone get to a boat, four by four."

Harry, Draco and Ron picked out a boat and were joined by Hermione, the girl they'd met on the train. Hagrid, who occupied a whole boat by himself, took the lead and soon the fleet was gliding over the black water as if towed by invisible lines.

"I can't believe I'm really here!" Hermione squealed, looking up at the castle with eyes shimmering with excitement. "Non of the pictures in my books are even close to comparing to the real thing. Don't you agree?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Um, sure, I guess."

"It's amazing," Harry said. He turned to Draco. "But I suppose you've seen this sort of thing before, Draco?"

Draco shook his head. "No. There's no other place like this one."

Soon they had reached the side of the cliff that the castle rested on. "Mind yer heads!" Hagrid yelled as they passed through a curtain of ivy and into a wide, dark tunnel that lead to an underground harbour underneath the castle.

As they climbed out of their boats, they heard Hagrid cry: _"Oi, Longbottom! Is this yer toad?" _followed by another cry of: _"Trevor!" _from the boy Neville.

Following Hagrid's lamp, a passageway in the rock took them to the top of the cliff, where a flight of stone steps in the shadow of the castle lead straight up to the huge front door in solid oak.

"Everyone still here?" Hagrid checked, before raising his fist and knocking three times on the doors. They swung open at once by themselves and Hagrid led them though an entry hall so huge Harry was sure one could have fit the entire Dursley residence inside of it. Torches burned on the stone walls and the ceiling was so high they couldn't make it out. Hagrid gestured at a magnificent marble staircase that led to the upper floors. "Now all ya got to do is head up those stairs," he said, "and there'll be someone waiting for yer at the top."

They did as they were told, marching up the stairs while the sound of their steps and whispered conversation echoed between the walls. At the top of the stairs stood a tall witch with iron grey hair, dressed in an emerald green robe and a large black hat. She had a stern expression on her face and a sharp look in her eyes and Harry instinctively knew that she was not a woman to cross.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said in a formal sort of voice with a distinct hint of Scottish. "I am Professor Minerva McGonagall. The start of term banquet is just about to begin, but before you can join your classmates you must first be sorted into your Houses. While you are here, your House will be something of a family within the school. The four Houses are named Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. At Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you House points, while any rule breaking will result in a loss of points. At the end of the year the House with the most points will be awarded the House Cup, a great honour! I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours. Now, if you will just wait quietly here for a little while longer, the Sorting Ceremony will begin momentarily. I shall return when we are ready for you."

With that, she left them alone. Harry swallowed and wondered how exactly the Sorting was carried out. Ron and Draco had mentioned a hat at some point but he was still hazy on the details. He hoped it wasn't going to be anything difficult, like a test or a trial.

He wasn't the only nervous one: Everyone around him looked terrified as well. Hermione was whispering very fast to herself, apparently reciting all the spells she had learned. Ron looked like he was going to be genuinely sick. "Oh dear," he said. "This is it."

"Calm down, it's just the sorting ceremony," Draco said and shrugged, as if to shake off his own worries. "Honestly, I think it's rubbish, all of it."

Ron frowned. "What's wrong with the sorting ceremony?"

"Its a magic hat that sorts people into four neat little categories," Draco said. "Don't tell me you really think the world is that simple."

At that moment a red-headed girl stepped up to them, and Harry immediately recognized her as Ron's sister Ginny. She was somewhat smaller then the other girls and he recalled she was only barely old enough to attend the school. Despite this, there was something intense and assertive about her that made her seem older then Ron, rather then younger, and she was the only one present who didn't look nervous at all. She give Harry a thorough look and smiled impishly. "So it's true, then? You're Harry Potter?"

There was a collective gasp from the student around him and everyone started to whisper: _"...really him … boy who lived … does he have the..." _The attention made Harry's ears burn a bit. "Um, yes," he managed to mumble.

"I'm Ginny Weasley," Ginny continued, seemingly oblivious of his embarrassment. "We met at the station, didn't we? I see you've already gotten to know my brother Ron." Then she looked at Draco and frowned. "And... you are?"

"Draco Malfoy," Draco said with a friendly smile and a nod. "At your service."

Suddenly, Ginny's brown eyes turned incredibly cold and she looked at Draco as if he was a particularly unlikable type of bug. "Oh yes. _Malfoy_. I've heard about you, or rather I've heard about your family. Honestly, I'm a bit surprised to see the likes of you hanging around someone like Harry Potter. Or Ron, for that matter." As she said the last part she glanced at her brother, who looked like he desperately wanted to be somewhere else right about then.

"What can I say?" Draco shrugged. "I try to keep an open mind."

"Sure you do," Ginny said, in a tone that suggested she didn't believe him for one moment. Then she turned to Harry again, and her chilly demeanour instantly faded. "I do so hope you'll join us in Gryffindor, Harry, I can just tell you'll fit right in! Besides, it would be a shame if someone as famous as you went and fell in with a bad crowd, wouldn't it?" Though she didn't point directly at Draco, she might as well have.

"Ginny," Ron whimpered, "you're being a bit..." But Ginny held up a finger and Ron fell silent so quickly, Harry almost thought she'd used a magic spell on him.

"We'll talk later, Ron," she said, with just a bit of edge in her voice. She beamed a brilliant smile at Harry. "Nice meeting you, Harry, gotta run, lots of friends to make." And then she wandered off to talk to Hermione and some of the other girls.

Ron turned to Harry and Draco. "Sorry about that."

"Wow," Harry said, and suddenly realized he hadn't been able to utter a single word during that whole exchange. "She's... really something, isn't she?"

Draco looked as if someone had slapped him in the face. "Is she always like..."

"Yes," Ron said. "_Always_. I mean, don't get me wrong. I love my sister, she's a wonderful girl." He sighed. "She's just completely mental, that's all."

By then, McGonagall had returned and called on them to be silent. "We're ready for you now," she said. "This way, please."

Following her, the group walked through a pair of double doors into a place so strange and breath-taking, Harry doubted he could have imagined it if he tried. The hall was lit up by thousands of candles that floated in the air above four long tables where hundreds of Hogwarts students were sitting in front of glittering golden plates and goblets. Slytherins, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, all giving them encouraging smiles and waves. And above their heads, the ceiling seemed to vanish and turn into a dark blue sky dotted by brilliant stars and silvery, moonlit clouds.

"The ceiling isn't real, of course," Harry heard Hermione whisper behind him. "It's just bewitched to look like the night sky. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History." But even that tidbit of information could not take the edge of the sheer sense of wonder Harry experienced at that moment.

At the top of the hall was a low dais, on which stood another long table where all the teachers were sitting. The most prominent one, seated on a large gilded throne, was an elderly man with a long white beard and spectacles on his large, crooked nose. To Harry, he looked like every old wizards he had ever heard about all at once, and now his brilliant blue eyes regarded the new students with twinkling kindness, and a little bit of mischief.

"Will you wait along here, please?" McGonagall said, stopping the first years right in front of the dais. Between them and the teachers table stood a four legged stool, on which rested a old, pointy wizard's hat – brown, wrinkled, patched and frayed, and just a bit dirty.

"Before we begin," McGonagall said, "Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words."

The old bearded wizard stood up an addressed the hall: "I have some brief start of term notices I wish to announce," he said in a hoarse yet surprisingly soft voice. "The first-years please observe that venturing into the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden for all students without expressed permission from the faculty. In fact, some of our older pupils may do well to remember that as well. Also, our Caretaker Mr Filch has asked me to remind you that magic should not be used in the corridors between classes. Finally, I should tell you all that this year the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a horrible and painful death."

Harry wondered if this was meant as a joke. If it was, it hadn't been a very good one because nobody was laughing.

"That is all," Dumbledore concluded. He sat down again and made a gesture towards the old hat on the stool. "Let the sorting begin!"

For a moments there was only complete silence. Then the hat twitched and the shape of a face appeared in the wrinkles of the leather. The hat began to sing:

_Oh, you may not think me pretty,  
>But judge not on what you see,<br>I'll eat myself if you can find  
>A hat smarter than me.<em>

_You can keep your bowlers black,_  
><em>And your top hats, sleek and tall,<em>  
><em>For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat<em>  
><em>And I can cap them all!<em>

"You _can't _be serious," Draco groaned next to Harry. The Sorting Hat kept singing:

_There's nothing hidden in your mind,_  
><em>The Sorting Hat can't see,<em>  
><em>So try me on and I will find<em>  
><em>The place you ought to be.<em>

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_  
><em>Where dwell the brave at heart,<em>  
><em>Their daring, nerve, and chivalry<em>  
><em>Set Gryffindors apart;<em>

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_  
><em>Where they are just and loyal,<em>  
><em>Those patient Hufflepuffs are true<em>  
><em>And unafraid of toil;<em>

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_  
><em>if you've a ready mind,<em>  
><em>Where those of wit and learning,<em>  
><em>Will always find their kind;<em>

_Or maybe in proud Slytherin_  
><em>You will achieve your ends<em>  
><em>With cunning, clever strategy<em>  
><em>And cunning, clever friends<em>

_Now slip me snug about your ears,  
>I've never yet been wrong,<br>I'll have a look inside your head  
>And see where you belong!<em>

As the hat fell silent, Professor McGonagall held up a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will sit on the stool and put on the hat to be sorted," she explained to the first-years. She looked at the scroll and read: "Hermione Granger!"

Hermione drew a deep breath and approached the stool with quick steps. "Oh dear," she whispered to herself. "Okay, relax, relax..." Mumbling similar things she sat down. McGonagall lowered the hat on her head and a thoughtful expression appeared in its ancient wrinkles.

"Ah, right then," it said. "Tricky one, yes... Hmm... Right! Okay... _Ravenclaw!"_

Looking relieved and not too disappointed, Hermione joined the Ravenclaw table. McGonagall looked at her list again. "Susan Bones!"

The girl in question sat down on the stool and the hat once again seemed to ponder for a few moment before declaring: _"Gryffindor!"_

McGonagall read: "Vincent Crabbe!"

Crabbe was a very large, heavyset boy with an unpleasant look. After some consideration, the hat put him in Slytherin. He was followed by Gregory Goyle, another huge boy with an an equally unpleasant look – the hat placed him in Hufflepuff. Harry noticed that sometimes the hat shouted the house almost right away and sometimes it took a while to decide. After Goyle came Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad. He stumbled slightly on the way to the stool, and for a while the hat seemed to have trouble making up its mind before it finally declared him a Gryffindor. He was still wearing the hat when he stepped down and had to turn around and give it back to McGonagall amid gales of laugher. After him, a sandy blonde boy named Zacharias Smith was called up and quickly placed in Hufflepuff.

"Ginevra Weasley!" McGonagall read.

Ginny stepped forward with a confident stride. She didn't look a bit worried when she sat down to be sorted and it turned out she had no reason to be: "_Gryffindor!"_ the hat cried the moment it touched her hair, before McGonagall even had time to let go of it. Ginny joined her new table with a triumphant smile and her fellow Gryffindor students cheered. "Well done, sis!" said her brother George as she took her seat.

"Told you she'd make it," Ron whispered to Harry.

"Ronald Weasley!"

Ron swallowed. "Wish me luck, Harry."

On slightly shaky legs and looking just a little bit ill, Ron sat down on the stool. He twitched a bit when the hat came down over his head.

"Another Weasley, eh?" the hat said. "Well, well, _this_ is interesting. Hm... Hmmm..."

The hat kept humming and all the while Ron's lips were moving. While Harry couldn't hear what he said, he could tell Ron was just repeating: _"Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor..."_ over and over. He looked absolutely terrified. As if to prolong his suffering, the hat was taking particularly long time sorting him.

"Right then!" it finally said. _"Hufflepuff!"_

Ron's mouth stopped moving and fell open. Over at the Gryffindor table, Ginny's eyes went wide and started coughing, having very nearly spat her celebratory pumpkin juice all over Neville Longbottom. George and Fred, despite sitting at different tables, somehow managed to produce identical expressions of abject shock and horror. Their older brother, the prefect Percy, simply covered his eyes with his hand and shook his head. The Hufflepuff table cheered and laughed and someone shouted: _"We got ourselves a Weasley!"_ Harry felt quite a bit sorry for Ron at that moment.

"Settle down, everyone," said McGonagall. "Very good, Mr Weasley. You may step down now."

"I'm done for," Ron mumbled, his face having turned a sickly shade of grey. He climbed off the stool as in a daze, looking absolutely devastated. "Mom and dad will disown me."

"Yes, yes, that's very interesting," McGonagall said, impatiently shooing him down from the dais, then looked at her list again. "Draco Malfoy!"

"Here we go," Draco muttered and stepped forward. Once he was seated, McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on Draco's head and for the longest time it did nothing but hum and mutter to itself: "Malfoy, eh? Hmm. Hmmm... Hm? I see... Hmm... But then again... Huhh..." This went on for at least a minute, at which point Draco seemed to lose his patience.

"Yes, yes," he said out loud, rolling his eyes. "I don't even care, just get on with it already."

"Hmmm... _Slytherin!"_ the hat finally declared to the cheers of the Slytherin table.

"Good grief," Draco sighed as McGonagall removed the hat. As he stepped off the dais he added: "At least that's over with."

The sorting continued: Lavender Brown – Gryffindor. Dean Thomas – Gryffindor. Ernie MacMillian – Hufflepuff. Luna Lovegood – Ravenclaw. Lisa Turpin – Slytherin. As more and more first-years were sorted into their houses, Harry began to feel all the more nervous. While most did leave the stool looking content with their results, a few – like Ron – did leave with an air of bitter disappointment and dashed dreams. As for Harry, he wasn't even sure which house he was interested in. In fact, he wasn't even confident he had any of the qualities the hat demanded to begin with. A terrible thought occurred to him: Maybe he wouldn't be sorted at all! Maybe he'd just sit there in silence with the hat on his head until McGonagall jerked it off and told him there had Obviously Been A Mistake and that he had better get on the train back to London.

The hat had just sorted Seamus Finnegan into Hufflepuff when all of a sudden a sharp, searing pain shot across the right side of Harry's forehead. He only barely kept himself from crying out loud and put a hand to the lightning-scar, where the burning sensation had originated. For some reason he looked towards the teachers at the high table. Hagrid drank deeply from his goblet and seemed to be enjoying himself. He turned to say something to a woman of indeterminable age, with grey hair and eyes that seemed to glint of gold in the candlelight. Whatever he said must have been a joke, because she laughed into her own goblet and elbowed him in the side. Next to her on the other side sat a very short wizard with enormous white muttonchops. Somehow he reminded Harry a bit of the goblins he'd seen at Gringotts and he was watching the sorting ceremony with great interest. Among the professors, Harry also noticed an odd young man wearing an absurd purple turban and a leather eyepatch over his right eye. He was involved in a conversation with a black-clad teacher with dark, greasy hair, a hook nose and sallow skin. For just a moment the hook-nosed man looked past the teacher in the turban and straight at Harry, who hurried to avert his eyes. He was left with an inexplicable but distinct feeling that the man didn't like him very much.

By now the number of unsorted first years had thinned out considerably. McGonagall continued to read from her parchment. "Sally-Anne Perks!"

"It's Sally," said a girl from just behind Harry.

"Beg your pardon?" McGonagall said, looking up from the list.

"It's not Sally-Anne," said the girl in a clear, steady voice. She was fairly tall, had bright hazel green eyes behind a pair of glasses and chin-lenght dark brown hair kept out of her face by a black headband. "It's just Sally. Only my mother calls me Sally-Anne."

McGonagall sighed. "Very well, _Sally_ Perks."

Satisfied with this correction the girl who preferred to be called Sally took her seat on the stool. She kept her cool and her expression didn't change a bit as the hat was placed on her head. "Hmm, another tricky one, eh?" it said. "Hmm, but I think, yes... _Slytherin!"_

The girl marched right over to the Slytherin table and sat down right next to Draco, all the while keeping her expression calm and neutral. I was impossible to tell whether or not she was pleased with the sorting.

"Harry Potter!"

Whispers broke out all over the hall when Harry stepped forward. He still felt nervous but luckily the unexplained pain he'd just experienced had distracted him so he was no longer fearing a sorting malfunction. Sitting down in front of the hall full of people, all of whom were now craning to get a better look at him, he felt the Sorting Hat being lowered down onto his head.

Suddenly, he heard the hat speak to him. "Hm, difficult. Very difficult," it said. To Harry it sounded as if it was talking out loud, but somehow he also had a strong notion that he was the only one who could hear it: "Plenty of courage, I see, and plenty of loyalty. But not a bad mind either, and there's talent and a thirst to prove yourself, oh yes. But where to put you?"

"Look, I just want to..." Harry whispered, then hesitated. What _did_ he just want to? Everything had happened so quickly, he found he hadn't given it much thought until now. "I just want to make the most of what I've got, I guess."

"Oh? You desire greatness?" the hat asked.

Harry frowned. "That's what everyone seems to expect of me, anyway." He recalled the way his scar had burned, and the look of dislike the gloomy-looking teacher had given him. Then he recalled the story about his parents deaths, and Voldemort. "...At least, I want to become powerful enough to protect myself, and the people I care about."

"Ah!" the hat exclaimed. "Ambition, and a strong will to survive. Yes, I think you will do very well in... _Slytherin!"_

The reaction among the students was mixed – several of the Slytherins cheered loudly at having the Boy Who Lived sorted into their House, but some looked perplexed. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs didn't seem to know what to make of it, but clapped their hands anyway. The Gryffindors gave only half-hearted applauds and most of them seemed utterly baffled at this turn of events.

"Well done," Draco said when Harry took his seat at the table. "To be honest, I expected you to end up in Gryffindor."

"I think the Gryffindors expected that too," Harry said, glancing awkwardly at the Gryffindor table where some kind of hushed debate seemed to have broken out.

Not many first-years remained unsorted after Harry and when a dark-skinned boy named Blaise Zabini joined them at the Slytherin table, Dumbledore stood up and tapped a glass with a spoon to call for silence. "Your attention please." Then he smiled and held out his hand in a welcoming gesture. "Let the feast begin."

The smell of delicious food reached Harry's nose all of a sudden. He looked down at the table in front of him and gasped. The golden plates were now filled with all manners of tasty dishes, more food then he had ever even seen at once - roast beef, roast chicken, porkchops and lambchops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup and even – for some reason – peppermint humbugs.

Harry hadn't exactly been starving at the Dursleys, but he had definitely never gotten to eat as much as he wanted either. For a moment he just stared at the food, taking it all in. Then he piled his plate with a bit of everything and began to eat. Everything tasted marvellous! He threw a look over at that Hufflepuff table and spotted Ron. The youngest Weasley son was trying to cheer himself up by eating as much as he could while Seamus Finnigan gave him a consoling pat on the shoulder. At the Gryffindor table, Ginny had already made herself the centre of attention, altering between conversing with her fellow first-years and talking excitedly to her brothers, Percy and George. And at the Ravenclaw table, Harry saw the girl Lovegood talking to Hermione, who for some reason was looking more and more confused by the minute - while Fred Weasley, who sat opposite to them, was clearly trying very hard not to burst out laughing.

Harry turned to the Slytherin prefect, a slender witch with glossy black hair and ice-blue eyes. For some reason, she had opted to start her meal with the peppermints, but Harry decided not to bring that up. "Excuse me, um..."

"Gemma Farley," the prefect said with a peppermint-flavored grin. "Welcome to Slytherin, Harry Potter. We'll be expecting great things from you."

"Thanks," Harry said. He pointed at the hook-nosed man over at the teachers' table. "I was just wondering, who is that professor in black over there?"

Gemma turned to look. "One talking to Professor Quirrel? Oh, that's Professor Snape. He's the head of Slytherin House, so you'll do well sucking up to him. Teaches potions, though everyone knows he's always fancied Defence Against the Dark Arts. He's been after Quirrel's job for years now."

"What's up with the turban and the eyepatch?" Draco asked, looking at Quirrel.

Gemma shrugged. "Beats me. Professor Quirrel took a sabbatical last year to travel and get himself some hands-on experience. He still had both eyes when he left, so I'm guessing it got a little more hands-on then he'd bargained for. As for the turban... I don't know, maybe he went bald?"

At that time there was some sort of commotion over at the Gryffindors – a shining white, translucent spectre had emerged from the middle of their table. The next moment a dozen or so other phantoms came floating through the walls, the ceiling and the floor and started to swarm around the students. Harry saw a very fat monk, a long-haired woman in a plain cloak, and a man in a doublet with a ruff who did something with his head that Harry couldn't quite see from his angle, but which seemed to shock a group of Gryffindor first-years. One of the glowing figures swooped down over the Slytherin table. He was dressed as a nobleman, but his robes were heavily stained with blood. He carried chains that rattled as he strode through the air above the table, greeting students he recognised while swinging a sword around.

"Here comes the Bloody Baron," Gemma said. "He's the resident ghost of Slytherin. If you get on his good side, he'll often agree to scare people for you." She lowered her voice. "Mind you, never ask him how he got himself covered in blood. He _hates _that."

"Ah, Miss Farley," the ghost said as he approached them. "So good to see you again, my dear."

Gemma raised her cup at him. "And the same to you, Sir Baron."

The Bloody Baron turned to the the first-years. "I say, new Slytherins! And a promising lot, by the looks of it. I trust you will all do your part in the House championships this year, as I'm looking forward to see you win the House cup for the seventh time. I could swear the look on Sir Nicholas face only grows more and more amusing for each year."

"Hold on," Draco said. "You're telling us Slytherin has won the House Cup _six years in a row?"_

"Why yes!" the Bloody Baron said. "At this point, I'm considering asking the Headmaster to simply stop bothering with keeping score and just make the yearly Slytherin victory a permanent tradition of this institution. But until such time, I hope you will keep doing your best. Now, if you'll excuse me," he said, floating away towards the Gryffindor table, "I think I shall go taunt my good old friend Sir Nicholas some more."

Harry turned to Draco. "You know, if it wasn't for all the things I've already seen today, that would have seemed very strange to me."

Draco smiled and raised his cup. "Welcome to Hogwarts!"

* * *

><p>After the banquet, the prefects gathered up the first-years of their respective house and led them from the great hall and through the corridors of the castle. Gemma Farley brought Harry, Draco and the other Slytherins down marble stairs and through doorways, some hidden behind tapestries and sliding panels.<p>

"We're almost as the grand staircase," Gemma informed them. "Mind your steps, the stairs tend to move around."

The "grand staircase" turned out to be an absurdly large structure – a gigantic room full of staircases. Every inch of the walls was covered in portraits that waved and whispered to each other and greeted students on their way up or down. Occasionally one of the staircases swung around like a giant arm, aligning itself to a different one. Even craning their necks, the students couldn't make out the ceiling. The stairs seemed to go on forever.

"That's a lot of stairs," Harry said. Somehow it felt like an understatement.

"Now I wish they'd let us use brooms indoors," Draco said. "My legs hurt just from _looking _at that."

"Don't worry," Gemma said. "Our dormitory is downstairs, this is just the quickest route. Follow me and try to keep up, okay?"

They were led down to the lower levels of the castle and into a series of gloomy, windowless stone pathways lit by torches. Harry hoped the Slytherin dungeon wasn't an _actual _dungeon, though at this point he was pretty sure nothing would surprise him. Suddenly, Gemma stopped in front of a seemingly ordinary wall.

"Remember this spot, everyone," Gemma said. "You'll need to know the password to get into the common room. The password changes every fortnight, so make a habit of checking the noticeboard for the new one. Never share the password with anyone and never bring someone from another house. No outsider has entered the Slytherin common room in seven centuries and we like to keep it that way."

She turned to the wall and said: "Doublecross." Before their eyes, a secret door opened in the wall, revealing a hidden passageway. "Everybody got that?" Gemma asked and, not really waiting for a reply, waved them to follow her into the tunnel. "Great, come along then. Chop-chop."

When they emerged, Harry let out a sigh of relief. Despite being called a dungeon, the Slytherin common room was far from the dank cavern he had begun to imagine - the room was enormous and had a very high ceiling. It was furnished with a lot of black leather couches and dark wood tables and cupboards with silver candlesticks. On the walls, between the dark windows and elaborate stone carvings, hung large medieval tapestries depicting what seemed to be the deeds of historical Slytherin wizards and witches. There was a huge fireplace with a crackling fire, and a above it a great heraldic shield depicting a rampant serpent. Several green-tinted lanterns bathed the room in a dim emerald light. Harry was starting to see that if he was to be in Slytherin, he'd better learn to appreciate the colour green.

No, it wasn't a dungeon, he decided; it was a _lair_. If any room deserved to be described as a "lair" it was this one. It gave a bit of a cold impression, but Harry had to admit it was very atmospheric.

"Welcome to the Slytherin common room!" Gemma said, making a dramatic, sweeping gesture. "Grand, isn't it?"

"We could use a new decorator," Draco said, eyeing a decorative wolf cranium with some apprehension.

"It will grow on you," Gemma ensured him. She gestured at two adjoined corridors in the other end of the room. "Now, girl's dormitories are downstairs on the right and boys downstairs on the left. You'll find that all your belongings are already in place."

Suddenly Harry noticed something that struck him as odd. "Um, Miss Farley..."

"Don't be so formal, Potter," Gemma said. "You can call me Gemma. What did you want?"

"Well, this room is underground, right?" Harry asked. "So, why are there windows?"

Gemma grinned. "Look again."

Harry, followed by some of the other first-years, approached one of the windows and peered out. He couldn't see the moon or the stars – in fact, he couldn't see much of anything aside from an inky blackness. Then there was a sudden movement and an indistinct shape appeared from the dark, only to vanish again. The first-years shyed back in surprise. "What was _that?_" Lisa Turpin asked.

Gemma shrugged. "Oh, probably just a pike or something."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "It's the lake. We're underwater."

"Pretty neat, huh?" Gemma said. "There's a giant squid living in the lake, you know. Sometimes we see it swoosh by."

Hearing this, Draco paled somewhat and took a step back from the window.

"You scared, Malfoy?" sniggered the large boy, Crabbe.

Draco shook his head. "No, Crabbe. I just don't like big dumb animals, that's all."

"If you listen, you can hear the sound of the water swishing outside the windows," Gemma added. "Personally, I find it very relaxing when it's time for bed. Speaking of which," she clapped her hands together, "I suggest you all get some sleep now. It's a big day tomorrow!"

* * *

><p>Despite Gemma's advice, Harry found himself too excited to sleep right away. So when most of the other Slytherins were snoring lightly under the silver-embroidered bedspreads in their old, black four-posters, he was still sitting up wide awake. He'd let Hedwig out of her cage and gently stroked her feathers, thinking about the events of the day. Somehow it was all finally sinking in: He really was at a <em>real<em> wizard school for _real_ wizards. Part of him didn't want to go to bed at all, just in case it all turned out to be a dream and he'd once again wake up in that small, spider-infested cupboard under the Dursley stairs.

He quickly dismissed that thought, finding it far too horrible to entertain. Instead he started to wonder what had become of Draco. Harry couldn't see him anywhere in the dorm, so he quietly got up and headed to the common room.

He found Draco sitting alone in front of the great fireplace, looking into the flames. When he heard Harry approach he turned his head and squinted, his eyes not adjusted to the shadows. "Harry?"

"Hey," Harry said. "Couldn't sleep either, huh?"

Draco shook his head. "I had some things on my mind, and I always think better at night. Not sure why."

"Oh," Harry said, not sure how else to respond.

Draco turned his face to the fire again, and Harry saw that he had a thoughtful look on his face. "Hey, Harry. Can I ask you a rude and personal question?"

Harry chuckled and sat down in one of the black leather couches. "Sure, why not."

"Did... You didn't _ask_ the Sorting Hat to put you in Slytherin, right?"

Harry shook his head. "No. It was having trouble deciding, but I wasn't sure which House would suit me either, so it still picked it for me. Why do you ask?"

"I just thought..." Draco began, but then shrugged. "Nothing. I was just curious, I guess."

"Anyway, I'm not sure it would have done me any good even if I did ask," Harry added. "If felt very sorry for Ron, he was really hoping for Gryffindor."

"He'll come around, I bet," Draco said. "He seems like the friendly type, so he'll fit right in, and father once said that out of the four Houses, Hufflepuff is the one people tend to underestimate the most. Coming from him, that says a lot."

Talking to Harry seemed to provide Draco some relief, but it was clear something still bothered him. Harry frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"Well, no. But..." Draco looked very uncomfortable. "Look, Harry, you seem a nice sort and I wouldn't mind getting to know you. But if we're going to be friends, there's something you really need to know. And it's probably better you get it from me right away, rather then hearing it from the Weasleys or something."

"Okay," Harry said. "Go on."

"Remember what that Ginny girl said, about you falling into a bad crowd?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I thought that was a bit rude of her."

"Well," said Draco, "thing is, there's a reason for that. And you really deserve to know it, since I know You-Know-Who killed your parents."

Harry didn't like where this was going. "Wait, what does that have to do with you?"

"Lucius Malfoy, my father that is..." Draco hesitated. "He was a Death Eater. He used to work for the Dark Lord."

Harry's eyed widened. "What?"

"My father worked for the man who killed your parents," Draco repeated. "And so did several of my relatives, actually."

Harry wasn't sure how to react. He liked Draco, and didn't want to believe that his family were evil wizards. But he couldn't understand why else anyone would willingly side with Voldemort. He looked at Draco. "But _why?_"

"Because he didn't become the Dark Lord overnight, see?" Draco explained. "Father said it was a gradual thing. At first he was just a very gifted wizard with dangerous ideas of how the wizarding world should be run. He said a lot of fancy stuff about blood-purity and how we should take back our birthright. You have to understand; old, pure-blood wizarding families like ours have been going downhill for the last century, and some of the things the Dark Lord was saying back then made a lot of sense to people like my dad. Almost the entire House of Black supported him, too, so siding with him just seemed like a good idea at the time. Back then they still called themselves the Knights of Walpurgis, like they were some sort of noble order." Draco's eyes turned colder. "But then came the threats, and the kidnappings and the torture and the killings. It got _really _ugly and around the time mother got pregnant with me, my dad had enough and wanted to switch sides. But he was scared, because Voldemort did horrible things to traitors and their families. It wasn't until Dumbledore personally promised my parents protection they managed to get out, but by then everyone knew father had worked for the Dark Lord." He sighed and looked at Harry. "What I'm trying to say is, a lot of people don't like my family very much."

Harry's young mind worked hard to make sense of this – listening to Draco talking was a lot like listening to an adult. But he was starting to get the picture now. "But... But your dad, he switched sides, didn't he?" he said. "He didn't really want to work for You-Know-Who, right? And besides, non of this is your fault."

"Doesn't matter," Draco said with a shrug. "What matters is, almost everyone lost relatives in the war and they all knew dad had been a Death Eater, so now nobody trusts us. And it wasn't just dad, either. You know that Longbottom boy? I think my aunt blew up his parents or something. She's in Azkaban prison for life."

"That's horrible," Harry said.

Draco just nodded in agreement, and for a few moments there was a terrible, deafening silence between them that the crackling of the fire could not chase away.

"So," Draco finally said. "Are we... okay?"

At first Harry didn't know what to say. A small part of him – a tiny, angry little voice in the pit of his stomach – _did_ want to blame the Malfoys for their part in Voldemort's reign of terror, the destruction of his family and his terrible upbringing with the Dursleys. But the rest of him simply thought: _This is stupid! _And that tiny, angry voice was quickly snuffed out. He looked straight at Draco. "Did you kill my parents?"

Draco jerked in surprise. "What? No! Of course not."

"Did your dad kill my parents?"

."...No."

"There you go, then," Harry said. He thought of something. "One more question: What do _you_ think about You-Know-Who?"

Draco stirred the fire with the iron, looking grim. "I despise him. I don't agree with his ideals at all. And even if I did, his methods were still crude and inhuman. You did us all a favour, doing away with him."

Harry smiled. "Then we're okay." He stood up and headed back to the boy's dorm. "We better get some sleep, or we won't be rested tomorrow."

"Hey, Harry," Draco said.

Harry turned to him again. "Yes?"

Draco smiled. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Harry said, returning the smile.

As he passed the corridor leading to the girls dorm, he caught a glimpse of a face in the shadows – dark hair framing a pale face and round glasses. As their eyes met, the girl quickly ducked into the darkness and vanished without a sound. Harry remembered her; she had been sitting next to Draco at the banquet. Sally-Anne Perks, who preferred to go by Sally. Had she been eavesdropping on them? He wondered if he should say something, but decided it was too late to make a scene. Instead he walked straight into the boys dorm, crashed into his bed and fell asleep, exhausted after an amazingly eventful day. Gemma Farley had been right, the sound of the lake _was _pretty soothing.

Left alone in the common room, Draco remained by the fire for a while, staring into the dancing flames and thinking back to what Harry had said.

_Non of this is your fault._

Harry didn't know it yet, but those simple words had just made him a friend for life. Draco wasn't a fool, though: he knew that just by associating with him, Harry wasn't going to have an easy time at Hogwarts. But Draco Malfoy swore, right then and there, that he would do everything in his power to make it up to him. He swore he would make things right again.

"On my blood," he whispered into the night. "And blood never lies."

* * *

><p>Notes: I was a bit pressed for time when finishing this, so it may still needs some editing. Consider this a beta for now.<p>

Regarding Sally-Anne Perks – the Harry Potter Wiki lists this character as "Bespectacled Slytherin Girl", and she can be seen standing behind Harry and Ron during the sorting scene in the first movie. Though she isn't named, it's theorized she could be Tracey Davis, Daphne Greengrass or Sally-Anne Perks. (A girl sorted into an unidentified house just before Harry in the novel.) I decided to make her Sally mainly because I happen to like that name.

In the book, the first years didn't seem to know what the sorting ceremony actually was. I found that a bit hard to swallow, though, since they do it every year and everyone has relatives who went through the same thing. I particularly wanted Draco to know about it, and I could certainly see his father telling him about the hat if asked. Thus, in my version the sorting hat is not a secret.

Though, I honestly have no excuse for why they're not called in alphabetical order, except that the movie did it that way and it makes for easier narrative flow.

This one ended up pretty long - I think I'l try to keep the chapters shorter from now on if I can. Though, reviews help me write, so who knows?


	3. A Flight of Fancy

Chapter 3: A Flight of Fancy

* * *

><p>Harry awoke the following morning from someone gently shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes and was relieved to find he was still at Hogwarts. It hadn't been a dream after all.<p>

Draco looked down at him. "Morning, Harry," he said, already pulling his robes on. "You better get up. If we don't hurry, we'll be in trouble with Professor McGonagall." Not wanting to be late on his first day of learning magic, Harry hurried out of bed.

From the moment Harry left his dormitory with Draco, whispers started to follow them: _"There! Look! Where? Next to Malfoy, the one with the glasses. Did you see his face? Did you see the scar?" _People lined up outside of classrooms and stood on their toes trying to get a look at him. Others doubled back after passing him in the corridor, staring. Harry wished they wouldn't, because it was already difficult enough to find the way to classes. There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts, some wide and sweeping, others narrow and rickety. Some had a vanishing step halfway up that you had to take care to jump over. Some led somewhere different on a Friday. There were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked them politely, or knocked the correct number of times, or tickled them in the right place. There were doors that weren't doors at all, just walls pretending.

And then there was the Caretaker, Mr Filch.

Harry and Draco were in the middle of trying to force their way through a particularly troublesome door when a shadow suddenly overtook them from behind and they heard a nasty voice say: "Would you look at that, Mrs Norris? Term's barely started and here we have two fine Slytherin gentlemen already trying to break into the off-limits corridor. This must be some sort of new record."

It was with a great deal of reluctance Harry and Draco turned around to face the caretaker. Filch was an intimidating and unpleasant-looking man who was always seen wearing a worn brown coat over ill-fitting clothes regardless if he was indoors or not. He was well on his way out of middle age and though his greying hair had long since begun to retreat across his scalp, he still wore what remained in a long mane down his shoulders framing a gaunt, skull-like face with dark, piercing blue eyes. He rarely smiled and when he did, it sent chills up your spine. Mrs Norris was his cat – a very large dust-coloured creature who normally patrolled the corridors looking for misbehaving students, but right now she was seated on the floor next to Filch's feet, glaring at the two boys with her lamp-like amber eyes.

It only now dawned on Harry and Draco that the door they had just tried to force open was, in fact, the one leading to the forbidden third floor corridor on the right hand side and that they were, in fact, in proper trouble. "N-now, wait a minute," Draco stammered. "You don't understand, we..."

"Oh, I understand all right," Filch interrupted. "I understand just fine, but if you lads are really_ that_ eager to meet with a horrifying fate, we do have a well-equipped dungeon ready for just such an occasion." He leaned forwards and drilled his bulging dark eyes into them. "I wonder if _you_ understand what I'm getting at here?"

"Ah, is there a problem?" said a voice behind them. They turned to see Quirinus Quirrell, the Defence professor, regarding them with his one remaining eye. Mrs Norris hissed at him and scurried behind Filch's legs.

"These two were trying to enter the forbidden corridor, Professor," Filch said.

Quirrell chuckled nervously. "Now, now. I'm sure it was a misunderstanding. Unless of course," he glanced at Harry and Draco and suddenly sounded serious, "you two fine Slytherins really _were _looking to get yourselves killed in a gruesome manner?"

"Of course not!" said Draco.

"We were on our way to our transfiguration class," Harry explained. "But we got lost and tried to wrong door."

"Ah, well, there you have it then," Quirrell said, turning to Filch. "Just a misunderstanding, Mr Filch. I'll show these gentlemen to their classroom now."

Filch looked at Quirrell with narrowed eyes and for a moment Harry was afraid he would refuse to let them go and drag them off to the dungeons anyway. But then he grunted and shot Harry and Draco a glare. "You two watch your backs," he muttered before walking away. Mrs Norris hissed at Quirrell again and followed him.

"Don't mind him, he's just a bit of a grump," Quirrell said. He walked passed Harry and Draco, pointing at a nearby corridor. "Now then, the transfiguration classroom, was it?"

_...sssneak... the door... posssible..._

A chill went down Harry's spine. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Draco asked.

Harry frowned. He was sure he'd heard something just as Quirrell passed him – a tiny whispering voice that he couldn't quite make up, hissing words just beyond what his ears could make out. Had he imagined it?

"Come along now, children," Quirrell said over his shoulder. "I'll show you the way."

The two boys followed him. Draco showed no sign of having noticed anything strange, but Harry felt oddly uncomfortable all of a sudden. Did Quirrell have anything to do with it?

Harry wasn't sure, but decided he better stay on his guard around Professor Quirrell, just in case.

* * *

><p>Despite the Defence professor's best efforts, Harry and Draco arrived to their lesson rather late. After Quirrell saw them off, they carefully peeked inside the classroom. Their fellow first-years were already seated and there was a cat sitting on the desk at the far end of the room, but there was no sight of their teacher.<p>

"Looks like we made it," Harry said.

"That's a relief," Draco sighed as the two of them entered the classroom. "I sure wouldn't want to face McGonagall after being this late."

Barely had he finished his sentence when the cat leaped from the desk and – in mid jump – turned into Professor McGonagall, giving them both a rather chilly look.

Harry and Draco stared, mouths agape. Draco recovered first. "...Madam, that was brilliant," he said.

"Why, thank you for you expert opinion, Mr Malfoy," McGonagall said. "Perhaps I should start the lesson by transfiguring Mr Potter or yourself into a pocket-watch so that at least one of you may arrive on time?"

"Um, we got lost," Harry explained.

"A map, then?" said McGonagall dryly. "You do seem to have trouble _finding your seats."_

Harry and Draco got the hint and hurried to sit down. A few of the Ravenclaws sniggered.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," McGonagall explained. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned." Harry gulped, and Draco nervously scratched his ear. A few seats away, Hermione Granger was almost beaming with eagerness to master this complex and dangerous branch of magic. "In the coming years," McGonagall continued, "your transfiguration training will come to include vanishment, which naturally is the art of causing things to vanish, conjuration, which is to bring things into being, and untransfiguration, the art of reversing a transfiguration spell. However, this year we will start with the most basic category: transformations! Observe." Then she pointed her wand at her desk, which immediately turned into a rather confused pig. The entire class stared, especially the muggle-born and Harry. McGonagall gave her wand another wave and the pig turned back into a desk.

"Any questions?" she asked.

Luna Lovegood, the blonde Ravenclaw girl sitting next to Hermione, immediately raised her hand.

McGonagall turned to her. "Yes, Miss Lovegood?"

"Will we be learning to transfigure ourselves?" Luna asked.

"Well, that's a very advanced skill," McGonagall replied. "To begin with we do not teach human transfiguration until the sixth year." She cocked her head. "But just out of curiosity, what did you plan to turn yourself into?"

Luna got a dreamy look on her face. "Oh, something like a bookshelf, perhaps?"

McGonagall stared at her. "A... bookshelf?"

"Well, not permanently, of course," Luna added. "Just for an hour or so. That would be nice."

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, as if to say something, but then closed it again. Then she opened her mouth once more, this time raising a finger, but she still could not speak.

She twirled around and faced the class. "_Well then_, let's get started! We will begin by transfiguring matches into needles..."

* * *

><p>Transfiguration turned out to be much harder then McGonagall made it look. At the end of the lesson, only Hermione had managed to turn her matchsticks metallic and slightly pointy, though McGonagall seemed pleased with her. As for Harry and Draco, they had utterly failed to make their matchsticks change much at all, though Draco insisted he'd managed to turn his somewhat shiny. McGonagall ended the lesson by giving them all a huge amount of homework.<p>

Harry left the lesson feeling slightly crestfallen. His first day as a wizard in training had not gotten off to a good start. "I don't think McGonagall likes us very much," he told Draco.

"Just wait until the Potions lesson after lunch," Draco said. "I hear Professor Snape is even worse. They say he always favours us Slytherins, but mostly just in the sense that he's a bit less terrible to us."

Harry really didn't like the sound of that. He quickly looked through his bag of school books just to make sure he was ready, and it was lucky he did because now he found that one of his Potions books were missing.

Harry though back the the previous lesson. He'd pulled his copy of _Magical Drafts and Potions _out of his bag while getting to his transfiguration textbook. Did he put it back? He must have forgotten it in the classroom!

As if this wasn't bad enough, Professor Quirrell picked that exact moment to run into them. "Oh, the two lost Slytherin gentlemen," he said. "I see you survived your transfiguration lesson, ahaha."

"More or less," Draco said. "Thanks again for helping us out."

Quirrell smiled in a way that made Harry shiver. "Think nothing of it, boys. Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you."

"Um, I'd love to stay and chat," Harry lied, "but I just noticed I left my Potions textbook in the classroom. I better go back and get it."

Quirrell looked slightly disappointed, but nodded. "Oh? Run along then. I dare say you'll need all the preparation you can get for dealing with Severus."

"Catch up with us later, then," Draco said.

Harry hurried off, almost running to get away. He hadn't been hearing any voices this time but there was something about Quirinus Quirrell that unnerved him – this nagging feeling in the back of his head that he couldn't get rid of. It was a relief, at least, to have an honest excuse to escape the conversation.

But Harry had barely made it around the corner into the transfiguration corridor when a hand reached out and pulled him into a side- passage. He now found himself being stared at by an irate-looking Sally Perks. She held up his copy of Magical Drafts and Potions. "Looking for this?"

"Ah. Yes, thank you," Harry said and took the book. Noticing that the girl was still staring at him with a frown on her face, he added: "Um, is something that matter?"

"You saw me last night," said Sally in an accusing tone. "Didn't you?"

"Well, yes," Harry said. "But... But _you_ were the one eavesdropping on _us_, remember?"

"I was not!" Sally snapped. "Not on _purpose_, anyway. It's the first night at Hogwarts and I get out of bed for a while to calm my nerves, and then I find the heir to the House of Malfoy spilling his heart to the Boy-Who-Lived! Do you have any idea how awkward that was? What was I supposed to do? Walk into the common room as say: 'Hello, are you two sharing private information? Let me join you!'?" She glared at Harry. "Look, you better _not_ tell Malfoy about this, or so help me..."

"Okay, okay!" Harry said, still trying to figure out in what way Sally was the victim here. "I won't tell him!"

"Won't tell who what?"

Harry and Sally turned to see Draco approach them, having apparently finished his conversation with Quirrell. The blonde boy stopped and raised an eyebrow when he saw them. "...Am I interrupting something?"

"Um, I..." Harry mumbled. "I mean, she..."

"I'm a fan of his," Sally said. "You know, Boy-Who-Lived, vanquished the Dark Lord as so on. I just wanted to take a closer look as his scar. Also he forgot his book."

"R-Right," Harry said, holding the book up. "Sally here fetched it for me."

"Oh," Draco said. "Well, it's time for lunch now. Sally, would you like to join us?"

"I'd be delighted," Sally said and, not waiting for them in the least, walked away in a brisk pace. "Well? Come on then!"

As they followed the girl, Draco grinned a Harry. "You sure are making yourself popular," he whispered.

Harry only barely stopped himself from groaning.

* * *

><p>Lunch was delicious – in fact, <em>everything <em>Harry had eaten at Hogwarts had been delicious. That did make sense, he reasoned, if wizards could just magically transfigure any food they wanted. They probably had spells that did the actual cooking as well.

Sally had sat down next to Harry and absolutely refused to look embarrassed about it. Harry _had _looked embarrassed about it, but mostly just because of Draco's grinning. The girl had eaten her meal quietly and only occasionally joined the conversation.

Once they'd eaten, owls started swooping into the hall dropping mail into their laps. Hedwig didn't bring Harry anything but Mordred, Draco's owl, dropped him a copy of the Daily Prophet as well as a small package wrapped in shiny green paper. Draco picked up the package and read the note attached to it.

"Mom and dad sent me a present," he said. "Reward for making Slytherin, it seems."

Harry tried to imagine Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia giving him anything for any reason. It must be nice to have parents like Mr and Mrs Malfoy, he concluded. "Well, open it."

Draco unwrapped the green paper, revealing a box and from the box he pulled something that gleamed of metal. It looked somewhat like a large silver pocket-watch with a spiral pattern on its casing, attached to a slender chain. Draco held it up and pushed a pair of small levers between his thumb and forefinger. The silver spiral casing slid open and revealed several slim lenses held together by metal wheels. Draco smiled. "Cool!"

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"It's a disobscurator," Draco said. "Looks like an expensive one, too."

Harry leaned closer to get a good look. "What does it do?"

"Here, I'll show you." With a few clicking sounds, Draco turned the wheels on the disobscurator and then handed it to Harry. Then he retrieved a quill, wrote something in the margin of the Daily Prophet, then crossed it over several times. "Look through the lenses and try to read this."

Harry did as told. At first it was impossible to make out what Draco had written since it was too badly crossed out, but after just a few moments the scratches of ink started to fade away and the letters underneath became readable. "It says 'I am Draco Malfoy'," Harry read, gently handing the disobscurator back to Draco. "That's amazing!"

"It's mostly used to let you read in the dark without a lamp," Draco explained. "But the better models like this one can also translate texts written in other languages than your own, clear up messy handwriting or cluttered fonts to make them easier to read, enhance details on things like blurry or faded images, and even restore crossed-out or erased writing. Pretty handy, huh?"

While he was talking, Hermione had passed behind him but stopped dead in her tracks. "A real disobscurator!" she gasped, staring at the silvery device as if hypnotized by it. "Oh, I've wanted one of those ever since I read about them."

Draco turned around and shot her a wry smile, dangling the item of her desire from its chain almost as if to taunt her. "Hm? I might let you borrow it on occasion, if you ask me really nicely."

Hermione's eyes snapped away from the treasured trinket and glared at Draco. "I think," she said sharply, "that I will manage, Mr Malfoy, thank you very much." And then she walked away with a look of severe vexation.

Draco turned to Harry and frowned. "Was it something I said?"

"You know," Harry said, "if you do like her, maybe you shouldn't tease her like that?"

"What?" Draco looked confused. "I wasn't teasing her, I was serious."

"You were smirking at her."

"I was smiling!"

Sally, who had been quietly listening to the conversation, started to giggle. She leaned over the table and buried her face in her arm, quivering with barely contained laughter.

With an annoyed pout, Draco leaned his chin into his hand. "Girls," he muttered.

Meanwhile, Harry turned his attention to the Daily Prophet. When he saw the headline, his eyebrows shot up. "Hey, someone broke into Gringotts!"

Draco and Sally leaned closer to look at the paper while Harry read: "Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts Wizarding Bank on July 31. Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day." Harry frowned. "That's on my birthday, when Hagrid and I went to Gringotts."

"You were _there?" _Sally asked.

Harry nodded. "It might even have happened while we were inside the bank." He studied the picture in newspaper. It showed a group of irate and nervous-looking goblins moving about in front of an empty vault which looked somewhat familiar to Harry. He squinted, trying to make out the number on the fortified door left ajar, but the picture wasn't clear enough. "Draco, did you say that gadget of yours could clear up blurry pictures?"

"Sure," Draco said. He opened the disobscurator, turned the wheels slightly and handed it to Harry. "Noticed anything interesting?"

Looking through the lenses, Harry found that the picture immediately became clearer. It was still an awkward angle but he could just about make out the number...

"713," he read. "I knew it. That's the same vault Hagrid emptied that day on orders from Dumbledore."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "So whatever the thieves were after, Dumbledore made sure to move it first?"

Harry nodded, remembering what Hagrid had said: _Ain't no safer place, Harry. Non at all, except maybe Hogwarts_. Could it be that Dumbledore had tasked Hagrid to move the mysterious package to the one place deemed safer than Gringotts?

Then his train of thought was broken by a large bang from the Hufflepuff table, where Seamus Finnegan had somehow managed to cause a goblet of water to explode in his face.

* * *

><p>Potions lesson took place down in one of the main dungeons, not too far from the Slytherin common room. The classroom was somewhat cold and filled with pickled animals and other indescribable things floating in glass jars all along the walls, giving the place a rather creepy atmosphere. Snape strode into the classroom like a giant bat, seemingly already in a bad mood, and started the lesson by taking the roll call. Harry noticed a slight pause in the professor's voice when his name came up.<p>

Once all names had been called, Snape addressed the class at large. "There will be no wand-waving or incantations in my class," he said. "As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the subtle and exact art of potion making. However, for those select few who possess the right disposition, I can teach you to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even keep those you care about..." He made a dramatic pause and let his eyes sweep over them. "...from dying."

Harry was writing all of this down - Potions sounded like an interesting and useful subject. He was so focused on taking notes, he didn't notice Snape turning his eyes towards him nor the slight frown that appeared on the potion's professor's brow.

"Then again," Snape said, approaching him, "perhaps some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to _not pay attention?_"

Harry was still writing when Draco – who _had_ noticed the look on Snape's face – elbowed him gently in the arm. Harry put his quill away and looked up, only then realizing that he might be in trouble.

"Mr Harry Potter," Snape said, each word weighted and austere as a church bell's chime. "Can you repeat what I just said?"

"We'll learn to bewitch the mind," Harry read, "ensnare the senses, bottle fame, brew glory, keep those we care about from dying, and pay attention." He looked up, meeting Snape's eyes. "Sir."

For a moment, Snape just looked at him. "Mr Potter," he then said, slowly. "Our new celebrity. I must say, it is a rather... _unexpected_ honour to see you sorted into my own House."

Harry swallowed. While the words themselves seemed to be a compliment, they had been delivered with all the warmth of a death-threat. "Thank you, sir," he said.

"Tell me, Potter," Snape said. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry blinked. Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? Meanwhile, Hermione's hand had shot into the air and she had an excited expression on her face.

"I... don't know, sir," Harry said

"Tut-tut," said Snape, his lips curling into a sneer. He utterly ignored Hermione's hand. "All right then, Potter, if I told you to find a bezoar, where would you look?"

Hermione's stretched her hand upwards so much, it was a wonder she didn't dislocate her shoulder. Harry, on the other hand, didn't even know what a bezoar was. He wanted to glance at Draco or Sally for support but didn't dare look away from Snape who was now drilling his cold stare into him. This was getting very uncomfortable. "I don't know that either, sir," he replied.

Snape somehow managed to look pleased and disappointed at the same time. "Clearly, fame isn't everything," he said, still ignoring Hermione.

Harry forced himself to keep looking into those uncaring, dark eyes. "No, Professor, it isn't," he agreed, trying to sound as harmless as possible. Somehow Snape reminded him of Uncle Vernon in one of his bad moods and he knew this was probably a good time to try some of that sucking up Gemma Farley had talked about.

"Let's try one more time," Snape said. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione actually stood up from her desk, reaching her hand towards the dungeon ceiling.

"I do not know," Harry said, in the most placating voice he could manage. "To be honest, I don't know much of anything. That's why I'm here, sir. To learn all the things I don't know. From you."

Slowly, one of Snape's eyebrows rose. "Humility, Potter? How... refreshing. Truly that is a rare trait among students these days and _will you sit down, Miss Granger!?"_

Hermione immediately sat down with a terrified look on her face. A few of the Slytherins sniggered.

"One point from Ravenclaw House," Snape said. "For disruptive behaviour."

"Wha-!" Hermione gasped in shock. "I..." It looked at is she desperately wanted to protest this obvious injustice, but then she closed her mouth and just sat there, simmering.

"Well then, Potter," Snape said, turning to Harry again. "Since you are so eager to learn new things, take note of this: Asphodel and wormwood make a powerful sleeping potion known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat. It can save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are actually the same plant, also known as aconite."

Harry wrote all of this down, terrified of antagonizing the teacher in any way. Snape gave him an approving nod, then turned to the rest of the class. "Well? Why aren't the _rest _of you writing this down?" There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. "One point for Slytherin," Snape added. "Good initiative, Potter."

As as the Potions professor directed his attention elsewhere, Harry allowed himself a sigh of relief, his heart beating hard in his chest. Then he looked up only to see Hermione glaring at him as if she wanted to hex him.

"Looks like you made an enemy," Sally whispered to him. Harry felt deeply unhappy.

"Now, unless you have any further inquiries..." Snape began. Once more a hand was raised among the Ravenclaws, but this time it wasn't Hermione. Snape sighed. "Yes, Miss Lovegood?"

Luna put her hand down. "I'm just wondering, are there any potions that let you grow extra body parts? I've always wanted a third arm."

Snape simply stared at her, speechless.

* * *

><p>Harry was still a bundle of nerves once the Potions lesson ended. Snape had swept around in his long black cloak, criticizing pretty much everyone except Draco, whom he apparently liked for some reason, and Harry, whom he now seemed to regard with some kind of grudging respect. That hadn't really kept Harry from fearing him, though.<p>

"Well done, Potter," Pansy Parkinson said as they walked out of the dungeon. "Getting all friendly with Snape _and _putting Granger in her place on the first lesson? Seems like you are a real Slytherin after all!"

"I didn't mean to do that," Harry said unhappily. "I didn't mean to do any of it. That's just how it worked out."

Pansy grinned at him. "Oh, you're _good!"_

Among the Ravenclaws, Harry saw Hermione give him another furious look before storming off. Harry sighed and turned to Draco. "What's our next class?"

"Broomstick riding," Draco said.

"Riding as in flying?" Harry asked, suddenly feeling slightly nervous. "On actual brooms?"

"That's right," Draco said. "Cheer up, it'll be fun!"

Harry silently prayed he was right.

* * *

><p>It was a clear, breezy day when Harry, Draco and all the other students hurried out on the large grass field that served as the school's training grounds. A large number of broomsticks lay waiting for them in neat lines on the ground.<p>

Harry looked around at the other students. Draco was his usual collected self, but then he had already flown on a broomstick before. Sally was calm as well, but kept eyeing her broom with some suspicion, as if she wasn't convinced it would actually fly. Hermione looked genuinely nervous - Harry guessed flying was something one couldn't learn by heart just by reading a book, though he wouldn't be surprised to learn that she had tried anyway. Among the Gryffindors, Ginny was bustling with excitement at the prospect of flying and seemed as confident as ever, whereas Neville Longbottom was looking even paler than usual.

Madam Hooch, their teacher, arrived at the scene. She was an older woman with short, grey hair and yellow hawk-like eyes. She greeted them all one by one as she walked between the rows of brooms and then turned to address the entire class. "Welcome to your first flying lesson," she said. "Well, what are you all waiting for? Everyone step up to the right side of your broomstick. Hurry up now!"

Harry looked down at his broom. It looked old and worn, and had twigs that stuck out at odd angles. He hoped it would still fly safely; he had heard some of the older students complain about the school brooms, saying they'd start to wobble if you flew them too high, or always wanted to fly slightly to the right.

"Hold your hand over the broom and say "up" in a clear voice!" Hooch instructed.

"Up!" everyone shouted at once. Harry was delighted to find that his broom flew into his hand at the first try. In front of him, Ginny Weasley had likewise succeeded immediately, but they were the only two who had. Draco needed three tries to make his broom fly into his hand, which was still better than most. The usually so confident Hermione couldn't quite get her broom off the ground, even though she tried several different pronunciations of "Up!" Next to her, Luna Lovegood's broom kept hovering just below her hand and sinking out of reach whenever she tried to grab it. Sally's clear, insistent commands only managed to convince her broom to slowly rise into her hand in an insecure kind of way. Ron on the other hand managed to make his broom fly up and hit him hard over the head. Even Harry had to chuckle at that, though he did feel a bit bad for doing so.

Once everyone was holding their broom, Madam Hooch showed them how to mount them. She walked up and down the rows, correcting their grips and postures. Ginny was complimented on her good form, whereas Draco was politely informed he'd been doing it wrong for years.

Finally, Hooch held up a brass whistle. "Now, when I blow my whistle you will kick off hard from the ground, keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then touch back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle, three, two..." But before the whistle had touched her lips, Neville's nerves got the better of him and he pushed off hard. He immediately rose above the heads of the other students.

"Mr Longbottom!" Madam Hooch barked. "Come back down this instant, boy!"

"I'd love to," Neville said, looking paler and more scared by the moment as his broom jerked erratically from side to side. "But this broom doesn't seem towooaaah!" His words turned into a scream as the broom suddenly picked up speed and shot off, zooming cross the grounds, somehow making a turn around one of the castle towers before coming in low and heading straight for the group of students.

"Everyone, look out!" Hooch shouted, and everyone was quick to leap out of the way - everyone except Draco, who stood frozen like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. Neville's broom dipped down too low and struck the ground, sending the poor boy catapulting through the air. _Wham! _He collided hard with Draco and the two boys fell down in a heap on the grass.

"Out of the way!" Hooch shouted, shooing the students aside so she could examine the fallen boys. Neville climbed off Draco and whimpered, clutching his arm. "Hm, yes, a broken wrist," Hooch determined. "Mr Malfoy, are you injured?"

"I don't know," Draco said, picking himself off the ground. He seemed close to tears. "My... My chest hurts a lot."

"Might be a fractured rib or two," Hooch said. She addressed the rest of the class: "Right, now I want you all to wait here with both feet on the ground while I take Mr Longbottom and Mr Malfoy to the hospital wing. If I see as much as one broom in the air when I come back, the one riding it will be out of this school faster than a golden snitch!"

As Hooch lead them away, Zacharias Smith noticed that Draco's disobscurator had fallen on the ground. He picked it up and smirked. "Did you see the look on Malfoy's face? He was almost bawling, even though breaking Longbottom's fall is probably the nicest thing anyone from his family ever did!"

Most of the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors laughed, and even a couple of the Ravenclaws joined in as well. Ron looked uncomfortable, though, and Ginny just rolled her eyes. Hermione had a slight frown on her face, as if trying to think of a way to object without defending Draco. The Slytherins most certainly didn't laugh.

Harry took a step forward. "That belongs to Draco," he said to Zacharias, indicating the disobscurator. "Give it here, Smith."

"Oh look! It's Harry Potter," said Zacharias sarcastically. "You know, I've been wondering why the big hero himself have been buddying up with Malfoy all day. You _do_ know his whole family is rotten, right?"

"That's funny," Harry said, looking right at the Hufflepuff. "From what I can see, Draco isn't the rotten one around here."

Zacharias expression darkened and he took a step forward almost as if he wanted to fight Harry. But in the same moment, tiny little Ginny Weasley stepped up next to Harry and raised her chin at Smith. "Enough," she said. "Give that thing to Harry."

"I don't believe this!" Zacharias said. "First Potter and now the Weasley Wonder is siding with Malfoy too?"

"Hey!" In the Hufflepuff group, Ron had finally spoken up. "What's your problem, Zach?"

"My problem is that the Malfoys are still allowed into this school," Zacharias said. He glared at Harry and Ginny. "And I also have a problem with the Boy-Who-Lived being sorted into Slytherin, _and _uppity Gryffindor show-offs who think they can always have their way!"

"I don't like Malfoy either," Ginny said, "but you better back down now, Smith."

"Oh yeah?" Zacharias said. "Or what?"

Sally spoke, and as usual her voice was clear, level and sharp as a razor. "Because otherwise you'll have some explaining to do when Madam Hooch returns any minute now."

Zacharias hesitated, realizing he was being outnumbered. Even among the Hufflepuffs, Ron's presence was disrupting his support.

"Fine then!" he said. "You want this stupid thing? Go get it!" Then he threw the disobscurator high into the air.

Harry reacted on instinct. Before he realized what he was doing, he found himself lifting into the air on his broom and flying straight towards the silvery device before it even started to fall. But then something zoomed past him at great speed, and there was a gasp of wonder from the onlookers. Ginny Weasley, perched on her broom, had caught the disobscurator in flight.

Somehow Harry managed to slow his broom down to a halt, hovering in the air. "Nice catch," he said.

"Thanks," Ginny said. "You seem to be a pretty good flyer too."

"I couldn't say," Harry had to admit. "This is my first time."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "You've _never_ flown before?"

_"You two better come down from there!"_ Hermione shouted down on the ground. _"Remember what Madam Hooch said!"_

Next to her, Ron was looking up at Ginny, mumbling: "Don't do anything stupid, oh please, don't do anything stupid..."

"So, um," Harry said to Ginny, "mind giving that to me?"

Ginny cocked her head, weighing the device in her hand. She had that impish smile on her face again. "Why don't you show me what you go for first? If you catch me, you can have it."

_"Seriously, you need to come down!" _Hermione hollered. _"You're both going to get in real trouble for this!"_

But Harry had gotten sick of everyone else doing whatever the liked. so instead of landing he flew straight at Ginny, trying to reach her arm. Somehow he knew exactly how to make the broom do what he wanted, and in a rush of excitement he realized that he had found something he could do without being taught. But Ginny simply rolled out of the way; it was obvious she had more practice than him. She laughed: "Catch me if you can, Potter!" and then she flew off. Harry gave chase, determined to catch up with her.

Down on the ground, Hermione sighed. "What a perfect pair of idiots."

* * *

><p>Professor Snape walked down one of the castle corridors with his trademark black cape billowing around him. He had a uncharacteristically thoughtful look on his face, having found himself in an contemplative mood ever since his inaugural Potions lesson with the first-years. He was so deep in thought that he almost failed to notice Professor McGonagall, who arrived from an adjoining corridor. He quickly pushed his musings aside, assuming a neutral expression.<p>

"Minerva," he greeted.

"Severus," McGonagall replied. "I trust everything is well with your House?"

"Quite," Snape replied curtly. "I was just about to drop by Madam Hooch's class to inspect how their flying skills are coming along."

"What a coincidence," McGonagall said. "I had the same idea. You know, I was just thinking how much I'm looking forward to this year's Quidditch Cup."

"Oh?" Snape said, the silken tone of his voice betraying his stony expression. "Then you are not worried to see a repeat of last year's outcome?"

"Not in the slightest," McGonagall said. "I can assure you that the Gryffindor team is in top shape this year. I feel quite confident we shall emerge victorious."

"Really?" Snape said. "Because I heard a rumour going around, that the Gryffindor team still hasn't found a new Seeker."

"You shouldn't listen to rumours, Severus," McGonagall said. "But while on the subject, is it not true that the Slytherin team has been having trouble finding a Seeker as well?"

There was a brief pause as the two professors regarded each other in tense silence.

Snape broke the deadlock first. "Well then, if you are really feeling that confident, perhaps you would like to raise the stakes of our wager?"

McGonagall chuckled dryly. "Professor Snape, you know well that money is not what I… Merlin's beard, what is that child doing!?"

She was staring out the great window overlooking the Quidditch field and Snape turned to see what had caught her attention just in time to spot Ginny Weasley appearing on a broomstick at high speed. The girl held her broom in right outside the window, having apparently just caught a small shiny object in her hand. The next moment, Harry Potter flew into view. He knocked the object out of her hand and somehow managed to roll to catch it in mid-dive. Ginny immediately accelerated her broom to pursue him.

McGonagall and Snape stared out the window. Then they stared at each other, and then back out the window. Then they both started running.

* * *

><p>Harry had completely forgotten about the threat of expulsion. Flying was easy! Flying was wonderful! He and Ginny were both laughing, chasing after each other in an elaborate game of airborne tag, trying to snatch the disobscurator out of each other's hands. In the back of his mind, Harry knew he should be careful or Malfoy's precious possession might end up smashed against the ground below. But he was just having too much fun.<p>

He found that Ginny was more agile than him and quicker to climb, probably because her body was smaller and lighter than his. On the other hand, Harry seemed to be slightly faster when diving. She had more experience flying, but seeing one of her moves just once was enough for Harry to figure out how to do it himself.

Eventually their broomsticks crossed and they began spinning around each other, climbing higher and higher in what looked like a dance, all while Harry tried to snatch the device from Ginny without losing control of his broom. He finally managed to pry it out of her hand, but it immediately slipped his grip and fell. Harry and Ginny broke away from each other and both turned their brooms into a dive at the same time, both wanting to reach their target before it hit the grass below. With gravity on his side, Harry was able to outpace Ginny and as the world came racing towards him unnervingly fast, his outstretched hand finally gripped around the disobscurator. Harry pulled his broom up with just enough time to slow his decent before hitting ground, and he landed safely on both feet. A fraction of a second later, Ginny landed right in front of him, having been just behind him all along.

As the rest of the class cheered and whooped and clapped their hands, the boy and the girl found themselves looking into each other's faces. They were both a bit winded, and Ginny's copper hair had been ruffled by the wind. Harry could swear she was almost glowing.

"Nice flying, hero," she chuckled.

Harry felt a chuckle of his own bubble up from inside him. "Same to you." Then he looked past Ginny and the laugher went away. "Oh oh."

Professors Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape stormed towards them across the field, both walking at a brisk pace as if they were racing each other while trying not to make it obvious.

"Ginny! Mr Potter!" McGonagall said, almost speechless. "How dare you!?"

"I might have expected something like this from the Weasley girl," Snape said grimly, his dark eyes narrowed in contempt, "but not from _you_, Potter."

"In all my time at Hogwarts, I have never..." McGonagall managed, staring at Ginny. "What were you thinking? You might have broken your neck!"

"Professor, she didn't mean to..." Potter began.

"Be quiet, Potter!" Snape hissed.

"But Smith..." Ginny tried.

"That's _enough_, Miss Weasley!" McGonagall snapped. "Come with me, girl, right now."

Professor McGonagall strode towards the castle and Ginny could do little but follow her with a look of equal parts worry and indignation. Snape watched them march off with an inscrutable expression, then glanced at Harry. "...Potter, you follow me."

His mind completely numb, Harry followed the Potions master, feeling like the whole world was collapsing around him. Why, oh why had he gone and done something that stupid? It was all over and he hadn't even lasted two weeks. Hogwarts had been his one chance at a new life away from the Dursleys, and now he would be expelled for sure. Snape swept through the castle corridors without even looking at him and Harry had to jog just to keep up. He wanted to say something, anything, that might stop Snape from having him thrown out of Hogwarts, but the terror he felt when he looked at the dark, ominous professor was overwhelming and he couldn't find the words.

"I-I'm going to be expelled," he finally whispered, quivering. "Aren't I?"

"What?" Snape shot him a look of annoyance. "Of course not, don't be ridiculous."

"But..." Harry stammered, confused. "But Madam Hooch said..."

Snape sighed and rolled his eyes. "If we expelled every student caught flying without permission, I dare say some of the most talented wizards and witches in history would never have graduated. No, Potter, this is not about your little joyride, at least not directly. This is about Quidditch"

Harry frowned. "Quidditch, sir?"

"Yes. You were raised by muggles, Mr Potter," Snape said, "so maybe you don't know this yet, but the wizarding world takes Quidditch rather seriously. I myself have a bit of a standing wager going on with Professor McGonagall of Gryffindor House. More importantly, the points each House team scores in the Quidditch Cup translates directly into House Points, making it a deciding factor in the House Cup. As we speak, Professor McGonagall is no doubt on her way to introduce the inimitable Miss Weasley to Oliver Wood, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team."

Harry tried to process all this, but still ended up confused. "And... what does that have to do with me?"

"Countermeasures," Snape simply said. "Ah, here we are."

Snape stopped by a classroom and opened the door, revealing Quirrell instructing a class of sixth-years in the fine art of vampire slaying. "Pardon the interruption, Professor Quirrell," Snape said, "but I need to borrow Flint, if that is all right."

The Defence Professor turned his one eye at Harry for a moment and another shiver ran down the boy's spine. Quirrell nodded. "Of course, Professor Snape. Run along, Mr Flint."

The person in question turned out to be a tall, muscular boy with dark hair, very large teeth and a sort of brutish look about him. Snape quickly pulled both of them aside. "Potter, meet Marcus Flint," he said. "He's the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team. Flint, this is Harry Potter. I believe he would make for an excellent Seeker on your team."

Flint raised an eyebrow. "You serious, Professor? A first-year?" He turned his shifty grey eyes to Harry, giving him an evaluating look. "Well, he does have the right build for a Seeker. Can he fly, though?"

"Mr Potter," Snape said, "am I correct in assuming today was your first time ever flying a broom?"

Harry nodded. "Yes sir."

"I just saw this boy catch a falling object the size of a snitch in a fifty foot dive," Snape told Flint. "He did this flawlessly on his first try. Just imagine what he could do with training!"

"Really?" Flint suddenly regarded at Harry with a lot more interest. "Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?"

"Um, well..." Harry stammered, but Flint wasn't even waiting for an answer. The sixth-year was walking in a circle around him, staring as if he was looking at some sort of mythical creature.

"This might be just the secret weapon we've been looking for," he decided. "If he's as good as you say, this year's team will be brilliant. Still, he'll have a lot to learn if he haven't even flown before today."

"He'll just have to train hard, then," Snape said. "You'll need him, Flint. If I know McGonagall, and I do, the Gryffindor team will have a secret weapon of their own once you face them on the field."

Flint grinned. His face was all teeth. "Sounds like we're in for a fun season."

Harry frowned. "Wait, don't I have any say in this?"

"You'd rather be punished for breaking the rules?" Snape asked dryly.

Harry considered this for half a moment. "Now that I think about it," he said, "it has always been my dream to be a Quidditch Seeker."

"I thought you might say that," Snape said. "Well, that settles it. Flint, you may return to your lesson."

"Training starts next week, Potter," Flint told Harry over his shoulder. "We'll beat some Quidditch into you, don't you worry!"

After Flint left, Harry turned to the Potions master. "Um, Professor Snape, are you sure about this? I've never played Quidditch before. What if I'm not any good at it? What if I make a fool out of myself?"

"Oh, do you ever stop moaning?" Snape sighed. Then he waved at Harry to follow him. "Come here, boy. There is something you need to see."

Harry followed Snape, who took them to a trophy room. He gestured at a large glass display case. Harry stepped closer and among the many trophies he could see a large commemorative plaque dedicated to House Gryffindor. Prominently displayed at the centre of this plaque was a golden shield reading:

CHASER

JAMES POTTER

1972

"No way," Harry gasped, leaning closer. "Dad won this?"

"I was there," Snape said quietly from behind him. "We were in the same year."

Harry turned around. "You knew my dad?"

Snape nodded. He was silent for a moment, then said: "Potter, let me be perfectly frank with you: I did not much like your father. I thought he was a self-centred, arrogant, boastful, short-sighted and dangerously reckless man." Snape regarded the plaque with a distant look in his eyes. "Never the less, even he had some redeeming qualities, and I can't deny that James Potter was a truly brilliant Quidditch player. Today, you reminded me of that. So no, Potter, I don't believe you will make a fool out of yourself. At least not on the Quidditch field." He turned to leave. "It's in your blood."

Left alone, Harry kept looking at the trophy bearing his father's name, not sure what to feel. The last hour had been an emotional roller-coaster and he was no longer sure if he should feel happy or sad. It would be several minutes before he left the trophy room and headed towards the hospital wing.

* * *

><p>It turned out Draco's injuries were not very serious, but he had opted to remain in bed and rest all the same. He was happy when Harry dropped by to visit him and even happier to get his disobscurator back. Harry then entertained him with a vivid retelling of his aerial duel with Ginny, complete with hand gestures. He also told Draco about the aftermath, how they had both been taken aside by their House heads and how Harry had ended up the new Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team.<p>

"That's quite a story," Draco said once Harry finished. "I wish I could have seen it."

"Yeah," Harry said. "I was there, and I can still hardly believe it."

"And now you and Weasley will be the youngest Quidditch players to make the House teams in a century," Draco said. He dangled the disobscurator from its chain and laughed. "I guess that will teach you not to play around with other people's stuff."

Harry laughed as well, but soon turned serious. "You don't think Ginny is in trouble, then? I mean, what if McGonagall really...?"

"Oh, I doubt it," Draco said. "I bet Snape hit the nail right on the head. You don't just throw away talent like that. Besides, I hear Ginny's one of the top students in her class. They'd be mad to expel her."

"So she's smart, confident and a great flyer," Harry said. "No wonder everyone likes her."

"Heh, yeah," Draco said. And then, all of a sudden, he got an oddly distant look in his eyes. "Yes, you're right..." he mumbled, staring into the air. "Everyone does likes Ginny Weasley..."

An idea had started to form inside his head. It was only a fleeting thought, a vague outline. But it was simple. It was audacious. It was brilliant. It was a very Slytherin sort-of idea.

"...Draco?" Harry said. "Are you all right?"

"Harry," Draco said, still staring into nothing. "Do you fancy Ginny?"

Harry nearly fell out of his chair. "What?"

"Be honest," Draco said. "I won't laugh or anything. Do you fancy Ginny Weasley? Even a little?"

Of course, the truth of the matter was that Harry _had_ started to feel a considerable amount of respect for Ginny, and maybe even a bit of out-right admiration. But there are some things one can't ask an eleven year-old boy and expect a perfectly honest answer.

"...No?" Harry managed.

Draco nodded. "Good." Then he looked right at Harry and started grinning. "So how would you like to be her arch-nemesis?"


	4. The Great Halloween Battle

Chapter 4: The Great Halloween Battle

* * *

><p>"What do you mean, Harry being Ginny Weasley's arch-nemesis?" Sally asked Draco.<p>

It was fairly late in the evening, almost time for curfew, and the three of them were trying to navigate the moving stairs in the grand staircase on their way down to the Slytherin common room.

"I'm wondering the same thing," Harry said. "You never explained what you meant back there." The closest Harry had ever had to any kind of nemesis had been his cousin Dudley back home, and somehow he didn't think that was what Draco had in mind. And how he was supposed to be the _arch_-nemesis of someone he had actually started to like was beyond him.

"I'll tell you later," Draco said. "After your match with Gryffindor."

"Why only after the game?" Harry asked.

"I'm still working out the details," Draco replied. "Look, all you need to worry about is playing the best game of Quidditch you can. We need you to be more than just the Boy Who Lived now. We need you to be Harry Potter, the one person in this school who can match the Weasley Wonder!"

"Are they seriously calling her that now?" Sally asked. "I thought that was just Smith..." She was interrupted by the stairs moving with the three of them halfway across. "I hate it when they do that," she said once they settled in their new position.

The three Slytherins hurried to the top of the stairs, not wanting to risk them changing further. Draco suddenly stopped. "Hold on," he said, pointing at a nearby door. "Harry do you recognize that door?"

Harry did. "Isn't that the door to the forbidden corridor?"

"Yeah," Draco said. "Only now it's open."

Draco was right – Harry and Sally now noticed that the door was unlocked and slightly ajar, as if someone had entered through it without closing it properly behind them. Harry's pulse rose. The whole school was rife with gossip and rumours about the secrets of the third floor corridor - there wasn't student at Hogwarts who wasn't curious about it. He made up his mind and started walking towards the door.

Noticing the look on his face, Sally quickly grabbed his arm. "Wait! You are not seriously thinking about going in there, are you?"

"Someone has already gone in there," Draco pointed out.

"Yes, and Dumbledore said anyone who did would die painfully," Sally reminded him.

Harry nodded. "Exactly. Whoever went in there might be in danger. If so, it's our duty to help them, right?"

By now, Draco was starting to look interested in the door as well, as if smitten by Harry's enthusiasm. "It would be irresponsible not to, wouldn't it?"

Sally looked at the door, and while she didn't want to admit it, she was curious as well. "I'm not going to talk you two out of it, am I?" she sighed.

"We'll just take a quick peek," Harry said, taking cautious yet determined steps toward the door. "Where's the harm in that?"

Draco followed him. "If you want, you can go on ahead and wait for us in the common room," he told Sally over his shoulder.

Sally hesitated for a moment, but then quickly caught up with them. "I better not regret this," she said in a hushed voice.

Harry pulled the door's handle and they quickly snuck into the corridor, closing the door behind them but leaving it slightly ajar the way they found it. The corridor was dark and in an obvious state of disuse, full of dusty old statues and cobwebs, but fires flashed along the walls providing enough light to navigate the shadowy passage.

"See?" Harry said in a hushed voice, "nothing to worry about."

"This place is bad news," Sally whispered. "First sign of trouble, I say we run for it."

"Yeah, we better," Draco mumbled, somehow looking less confident now than he had just a minute ago. "I wouldn't want Filch to catch us again."

_"Again!?"_ Sally hissed. "You mean you've done this before?"

"We didn't actually get this far last time," Draco whispered.

Harry hushed them. "I think I heard something around that corner."

They instantly fell silent. Draco and Sally looked like they wanted to retreat, but Harry found himself sneaking closer to the corner, still driven by that terrible curiosity. The tension was almost unbearable. With Draco and Sally right behind him, Harry held his breath and looked behind the corner...

...And stared right into the terrified faces of six other first-years. Harry jerked back. _"AAAAAH!" _he cried in surprise.

_"AAAAAH!"_ cried the six people in front of him.

_"AAAAAH!" _cried Draco and Sally behind him.

After this brief moment of panic and confusion, they all stopped yelling and Harry found himself looking at Ginny Weasley, flanked by two other Gryffindors whom he recognized as Neville Longbottom and Susan Bones. From behind them peeked Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood and – for some reason – Ron Weasley.

"Galloping Gorgons!" Ron gasped. "That nearly scared the bezoar out of me!"

"What are you all doing here?" Harry asked. It felt as if his heart was about to beat its way out of his chest.

"We could ask the same of you," Ginny said, putting her hands on her hips in defiance even though she was clearly still regaining her own composure.

"We saw the door was open," Sally said. "We only went in to check if anyone was in danger."

"How noble," said Hermione dryly. "Well, _we _saw these three Gryffindors sneak into the off-limits corridor. We would have fetched a teacher but we thought it best to stop them ourselves before they got themselves killed." She shot Ginny an angry glance. "But _of course _they didn't listen to us."

"_I _was just passing through," Ron muttered surly. "And then I got dragged along against my will by two crazy Ravenclaw girls."

Luna nodded. "Yes, so if we're all caught, we'll just tell the truth and Ron here can back us up."

"...How noble," Draco said and turned to the Gryffindors. "So, why are you here?"

Ginny shrugged. "The door was open. _Of course_ we had to look inside." She said this as if it was something blatantly obvious. Behind her, Neville and Susan shared an expression declaring that this had not been their idea and that they had started to regret going along with it.

"Wait," Harry said, "if non of us opened the door, then who did?"

All eight of them fell silent, looking at each other. That question hadn't occurred to them.

Harry felt someone tug his sleeve - Luna was trying to get his attention. "Um, sorry but..." she pointed the way they had just arrived. The group turned their heads as one.

Mrs Norris, the cat, had wandered in through the door and sat down in the middle of the corridor. She turned her large glowing eyes at the first-years and looked at them accusingly.

"Filch's cat!" Hermione gasped. They were now all thinking the same thing: _If the cat is here, Filch himself can't be far behind..._

Ginny reacted first. "Run!" she said, darting further down the corridor. There was no time to think of an alternative plan – the nine children ran until they reached the end of the corridor, finding themselves facing a large wooden door. Ginny pulled the handle but found it locked.

"Now what?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," Ginny said. "I didn't really plan this ahead."

"You _never _plan these things ahead!" Ron complained.

But now Hermione pushed Ginny aside and waved her wand at the door. "Alohomora!" she said and the lock clicked. She jerked the door open. "Get in!"

They all piled through the doorway into the chamber beyond, quickly closing the door behind them. Then they all cowered on the other side, just listening and trying hard not to breathe too loudly.

* * *

><p>Discovering that the door to the off-limit corridor had somehow been unlocked, Argus Filch cursed under his breath. "They never learn, do they? I told them, I did, the brats will find a way in. They always find a way in. Because they're like rats."<p>

Entering the corridor, he addressed Mrs Norris: "Anyone here, my sweet?" The cat mewed in reply. Filch raised his lantern, looking around, but could find no trace of any intruders. He briefly considered checking the inner chamber, but decided that Dumbledore didn't pay him nearly enough for that. Besides, if they had gone in there, there'd be screams.

"Come on," he told Mrs Norris and the cat obediently scuttled to his side. As they left, Filch gave the door another look of annoyance. "First class magical seal, my arse. How am I supposed to make sure this is locked? Pompous wand-waving fops..."

Muttering further obscenities to himself, the Caretaker left to find a faculty member who could actually cast spells.

* * *

><p>"I think Filch is gone now," Ginny said. "Quick thinking, Granger."<p>

"Well, s_omeone _has to do the thinking around here," Hermione said.

"Let's give Filch some distance before we sneak out," Harry said. He felt someone back into him – it was Draco, pale as one of the ghosts and quivering with a look of horror on his face.

"D-d-do... B-bi... D-d-do-d-do..." he stuttered over and over.

"Draco? What is it?" Harry asked. Then he looked up and saw exactly what it was. "Oh." The next moment the whole group had spun around and now they all knew why the forbidden corridor was forbidden.

On the floor in front of them a huge dark shape rose to its feet: A monstrous dog so large that it filled the entire space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads – thee pairs of mad eyes, three twitching noses, three giant maws filled with yellow fangs dripping long strands of saliva. It had been sleeping when they entered, and they knew this was the only reason it hadn't yet torn them to pieces. But now it turned all six of its eyes on the group and growled ominously.

"D-D-Dog," Draco stuttered, seemingly stupefied by horror.

"B-B-Big d-dog," Neville agreed, in a similar state.

"It's a three-headed hound also known as a hellhound the most famous of whom was the mythological Cerberus," Hermione mumbled quickly in a daze, as if unconsciously repeating something she had memorized, "bred in ancient Greece of course extremely dangerous highly resistant to spells I read about them in..."

Susan Bones looked like she was trying to shrink into the ground. She held her head in her hands, shaking it. "No, no, no, no, no, no, I don't want to..."

"Open the door!" Sally hissed frantically to Harry and Ginny. "Open the door, _open the door, openthedooropenthedoor..." _Harry and Ginny both groped blindly for the doorknob, utterly incapable of taking their eyes off the beast.

Luna raised her hand in a calming gesture. "Um... nice doggie?"

Then all three heads started barking at them. The children screamed at the top of their lungs and then Harry finally found the doorknob. They stumbled backwards out of the door. Ginny slammed it shut just as the dog lunged for them and then they all ran for their lives – down the corridor, out to the staircases and onwards. They didn't care if anyone saw them. The only thing on their minds was getting as far away from that dog as possible.

* * *

><p>A few minutes later, the nine terrified first-years had taken refuge in the trophy room. They were all short of breath from running and still shocked from their close brush with death. Draco was leaning towards a wall and looked like he was going to be sick, Susan seemed close to tears, and Neville had simply collapsed in a quiet heap.<p>

"I never," he panted, "_ever _want to do that again."

"What where they thinking!?" Ron exclaimed furiously. "Keeping a thing like that in a school?"

"You don't use your eyes, do you?" Hermione snapped. The experience, it seemed, had only made her temper worse. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"

"We weren't exactly looking at its feet!" Susan cried, still trying to keep the tears in.

"A trapdoor," Draco mumbled. "It... was standing on a trapdoor."

Hermione nodded. "Finally, someone who can pay attention."

"It's a guard dog!" Sally realized. "It's guarding something."

"Guarding what?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," Hermione said. "And I'm not sure I even_ want _to know! I hope you are all very pleased with yourselves, you've probably set a whole new record in broken rules and mortal peril tonight. Come on, Luna, let's get back to the Ravenclaw tower before these lunatics figure out some other way of getting us all killed – or worse, expelled!"

She stormed out of the room. Luna offered them all a tired smile and a wave before following her. "Well, good night, then."

"You'd think _they _were the ones who got dragged along," Ron said sourly once they'd left.

"We better all get back to our common rooms as well," Ginny said, turning to her classmates. "Neville can you walk? I'm sorry, Susan, this was my fault. I'll make it up to you." Once she'd made sure the other two Gryffindors were all right, she looked at Harry. "Potter... This all stays between us, right?"

Harry knew what she meant: _Let's not make it a House thing. No need to involve Snape or McGonagall_. He nodded. "We're all in this together."

She managed to smile. "I'll trust you on that, hero. Even if you are a Slytherin."

Harry returned the smile and retorted: "Try to avoid any more adventures on your way back, Gryffindor."

Ginny left with her companions and Ron wandered off as well, giving Harry a half-hearted wave. Harry approached Draco, who was still very pale. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'll be fine," Draco said. "I'm just... not as brave as you or Weasley."

"That wasn't brave," Sally said. "It was the dumbest, most reckless thing anyone has ever managed to talk me into."

"At least nobody got hurt," Harry said, wanting to smooth things over. "And you've got to admit it was pretty exciting."

Sally glared at him. "Are you sure you weren't supposed to be a Gryffindor?"

Harry realized he'd managed to put his foot in his mouth. Rather than risk making things even worse somehow, he simply said: "Come on, let's get back to the dungeon."

They walked in awkward silence, but the thing on Harry's mind wasn't the stress the event had put on their friendship but rather the three-headed dog and whatever secret it was guarding. _Hagrid said Gringotts is the safest place in the world for something you want to hide, except maybe Hogwarts..._ It now dawned on Harry that they may have inadvertently discovered where the package from Vault 713 had been hidden.

* * *

><p>It was a chilly morning on Halloween day when Harry left the castle at seven o'clock and headed towards the Quidditch stadium along with Marcus Flint. They were carrying a wooden box between them, which they then placed on the grass of the Quidditch field. Hundreds of seats were raised in stands along the field so that the spectators would see what was going on. At either end of the field were three golden poles of different heights, each with a vertical hoop on the end.<p>

"You'll be joining team practice three times a week," Flint told him, "but right now I'm just going to teach you the rules. I know you were raised by muggles, Potter, so Quidditch might seem a bit complicated to you at first, but don't worry. The rules are actually simple enough, so you don't need to be a genius to understand them." He opened the chest and revealed a collection of balls in different colours and sizes. He picked the largest one up; it was red and slightly larger than a soccer ball. "There are three types of balls in Quidditch. This one is called the quaffle. There are seven players on each team, and three of them are called the Chasers. I'm one of the Chasers for the Slytherin team and our job is to handle the quaffle and try to score goals by throwing it through one of those hoops. Every goal is worth ten points. You with me so far?"

"I think so," Harry said. "Sort of like flying basketball with six hoops, I guess."

Flint frowned at him. "I have no idea what you just said. Anyway, there is another player called the Keeper. The Keeper's job is to guard the hoops and stop the Chasers of the other team from scoring."

"Chasers throw the quaffle and try to score goals by getting it through the hoops, and the Keeper tries to stop them," Harry repeated. "That seems simple enough."

"Well, here's where it gets fun," Flint said and handed Harry a short club, somewhat resembling a small baseball bat. He then kneeled by the box and pointed at two identical black balls, smaller than the quaffle. They seemed to be moving on their own, straining to escape the straps holding them down. "These two are called the bludgers."

"And what do they do?" Harry asked.

"Here, I'll show you," Flint grinned and released one of the black balls from its restraints. It immediately flew high up into the air and then pelted straight for Harry's face. Purely on instinct, Harry managed to strike it aside with his bat before it could demolish his nose and it was sent zigzagging through the air.

"Looks like Snape was right, you do have the reflexes for this," Flint said, looking mildly impressed. "Basically, the bludgers rocket around the field and try to knock the players off their brooms. Sometimes just by knocking them out."

"Isn't that rather dangerous?" Harry asked, but before Flint could answer there was a sharp bang near Harry's ear and suddenly he could see stars dancing before his eyes while the world seemed to be spinning around him. He fell to the ground and a pulsating pain in his right temple informed him that the bludger had made a turn in the air and hit him in the head.

He crawled to his feet and found his glasses – thankfully not broken – just in time to see that Flint had caught the ball and forced it back into the box. "And that's why there are two Beaters on the team," he explained with a toothy grin. "Their job is to knock the bludgers away from their own team, preferably so they hit the other side instead."

Harry struggled back on his feet, still reeling from getting bludgeoned. "Have... Have the bludgers ever killed anyone?"

"Nah. Not at Hogwarts, anyway," Flint said. "We get a couple broken jaws or concussions once in a while, nothing worse than that. You'll be fine." He reached into the box and pulled out the last ball. It was tiny compared to the others, about the size of a golf ball. It gleamed like gold and had two fluttering silver wings. "This is the golden snitch. It's the most important ball in the game, and it will be your job to catch it. Of course, it's very fast and really hard to see, and you'll need to weave around the other players while dodging the bludgers and trying not to get fouled too much. But whichever Seeker catches the golden snitch first ends the game and wins his team a hundred and fifty points, and that almost always wins them the match. So basically, it's your job to win the game for us, and all you need to do is catch this." He held the snitch up for emphasis.

Still touching his head and trying to keep his legs steady, Harry stared at the small golden ball.

"What," he said, "both of them?"

* * *

><p>Harry's head was still aching when he hurried down the corridors towards Professor Flitwick's Charms lesson. Indeed, the pain seemed to increase ever so slightly for each step he took. And on top of it all, it looked as if he would be late for class. This Halloween had not gotten off to a very good start.<p>

He was the last to reach the classroom, but it seemed as if Flitwick hadn't started yet so Harry figured he was probably safe. The diminutive, goblin-like man had a reputation for being one of Hogwarts's more lenient teachers.

However, as soon as Harry opened the door the the Charms classroom the pain in his head suddenly exploded. He staggered, clutching his forehead. A murmur arose from the rest of the first-years as they stared at him. Professor Flitwick, who was standing on his desk so that everyone could see him, frowned when he noticed Harry standing in the doorway, obviously cringing from pain. "Mr Potter? Are you all right?"

Harry was just about to answer when he felt a hand on his shoulder, followed by a familiar cold shiver down his back. He now realized that it wasn't the lump from the bludger that was hurting him - his scar was burning like fire. He knew who had just walked up to him even before he turned his head.

"Oh my," said Professor Quirrell, "you don't look well, Potter. Perhaps you need to be taken to the hospital wing?"

_Sssstrange... What isss he..._

There was no mistake this time, Harry could definitely hear something whenever Quirrell was near him, a strange hissing voice almost too low to register.

"No, it's nothing," Harry lied. "I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" Flitwick asked, looking concerned. "You do seem to be in pain."

"No, it's fine," Harry said and, mustering all his willpower, he managed to straighten up and compose himself. "I just took a bludger to the head during Quidditch practice, it's nothing to worry about."

"Well," Quirrell said, "if you say so. Carry on then."

Still in pain but feeling relieved, Harry hurried into the classroom and sat down, not really paying attention to where. Quirrell gave Flitwick a nod on his way out. "Charms master."

"Thank you, Professor Quirrell," Flitwick said and turned to his class as the Defence Professor disappeared behind the door. "Right! Let's talk about levitation!"

Harry tried to pay attention in spite of the searing heat in his scar. He had been dying to learn the levitation charm ever since Flitwick demonstrated it by making Longbottom's toad fly around the classroom. He massaged his temple and thankfully the pain seemed to be going away now that Quirrell had left.

"Are you really all right?" asked a girl's voice next to him.

He looked up and discovered that he had managed to sit down right next to Luna Lovegood, much to the amusement of the rest of the class who were glancing at them and whispering. Dotty Luna Lovegood, with her wand tucked behind her ear, who asked strange questions in class, had been observed reading magazines upside down, and made her own jewellery out of vegetables and butterbeer caps. Even in their own House, Hermione was apparently the only one who would sit next to Luna voluntarily.

"I'm fine, thank you," Harry said. "Just a bit of a headache."

"I see. It's too bad we don't have a speckled gungslint," Luna said. "They can ease pain when allowed to sleep on the head, you know."

Harry hadn't been a wizard long enough to know if a speckled gungslint was a real thing, but judging by the snickers from the students sitting directly behind him and Luna, he guessed not.

He turned his attention back to Flitwick, who had been telling them a cautionary tale on the importance of proper spell pronunciation: "...and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest. You will now pair up, and each pair will attempt to levitate a feather with the Wingardium Leviosa charm. And remember the wrist-movements we've been practising. Swish and flick!"

"Would you like to pair with me?" Luna asked Harry.

Harry immediately looked around for Draco, but was disappointed to find that his friend had already paired with Sally. Draco shot him a regretful look and shrugged his shoulders, as if to say: _Sorry, you're on your own._ The only other students who appeared available was Neville Longbottom, whose proneness for accidents was already legendary; and Seamus Finnigan, the boy who seemed capable of making basically anything explode for no reason. Choosing possible discomfort over probable danger, Harry resolved himself. "Sure, Luna," he said.

Luna looked around. "Now where did I put my wand?"

"...Behind you ear?" Harry said. There was more sniggering from behind them.

"Oh!" Luna pulled her pine wand from behind her ear. "That's right, thanks."

_This is going to be a long lesson_, Harry thought. Why did it have to be the loopy one? Hermione was a bossy know-it-all but at least she knew what she was doing.

But Hermione was having trouble of her own, having inexplicably decided to pair up with Ron Weasley of all people. "Wingardium Leviosa!" the gangly redhead cried and whipped his wand about wildly, trying to force his feather to fly.

"Stop! Ron, just stop it!" Hermione said. "You're going to take someone's eye out like that. Besides, you're saying it wrong. It's _Win-gaaar-dium Levi-ooh-sah._"

"You do it then, if you're so clever," Ron said, clearly very annoyed.

"Very well." Hermione said, rolling up her sleeves. She swished and flicked her wand just like Flitwick had shown them. "Wingardium Leviosa!" And their feather did indeed rise from the desk and float in the air.

"Oh, well done!" Flitwick exclaimed. "Look here, class, Miss Granger has done it! Good work, my girl. One point for Ravenclaw."

Hermione looked very pleased with herself. Next to her, Ron bore a look of utter dismay.

A large bang and a loud scream interrupted the lesson. Seamus had somehow caused his feather to explode, setting Neville's robes on fire.

* * *

><p>Once the lesson had ended, Harry let out a dejected sigh. "Levitation is a lot harder than it looks," he said, joining Draco and Sally outside the classroom.<p>

"I'm sure I saw it move a little bit that last time, though," Luna told him. She had opted to follow him a bit rather than joining up with the other Ravenclaws. "I'm sure you'll get the hang of it soon."

"Thanks," Harry said, smiling at her. "You did pretty well too."

She wasn't really that bad, he'd decided: Luna's bizarre and random behaviour would still take some getting used too, but she was a kind and friendly girl once you got passed that. She was also surprisingly intelligent and well-informed – she'd given Harry some helpful pointers on his wand technique. Despite her quirks she was still a Ravenclaw.

"Luna, don't fraternize with the Slytherins, it may be contagious," Hermione said, catching up with them. It sounded like she was only half joking.

"It might do you some good to catch a bit of Slytherin, Granger," Sally quipped in return.

Draco laughed. "I sure wouldn't mind that." Hermione simply rolled her eyes.

"I did have fun, though," Luna said to Harry. "Let's work together again sometime."

"Sure," Harry said, and realized he actually wouldn't mind. Though, Harry still had to wonder how such a prim and proper girl like Hermione Granger had ended up friends with a girl like Luna.

In front of them, Ron was apparently in a very bad mood. "That Granger is a nightmare, honestly!" they heard him tell some of his Hufflepuff friends. "_It's Levi-oooh-sah!_ No wonder nobody likes her."

Hermione's face fell and for a moment they could see her lip quivering. Then she turned her head down and quickened her pace, her shoulder bumping into Ron as she almost ran passed him.

There was an awkward silence. Harry turned to Luna. "Um, shouldn't you go after her?"

Even though she did look worried, Luna shook her head. "I better not. I have to leave her alone sometimes, or she'll just yell at me. She doesn't want others around when she's upset, you see."

Sally, meanwhile, was glaring daggers at Ron. She walked straight up to him and said: "Well, you managed to make a girl cry. I hope you feel good about yourself, you insensitive oaf."

"I..." Ron frowned. "Now wait a minute, it's not like I meant to..."

Sally groaned in frustration. "You are _so thick_, you know that? Why do you think she paired up with you in the first place? And why do you think she dragged you along that time a while ago?"

"What?" Ron looked perplexed. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, figure it out yourself," Sally spat and stormed off. "Idiot!"

Ron was left standing there with a look of utter confusion and quite a bit of discomfort. "...What!?"

* * *

><p>The decorations at the Halloween feast was something to behold: Carved Jack O'Lanters floated above the tables, and along with the many living candles they filled the great hall with a warm and cosy light. A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables to the delighted squeals of the younger students. But Sally Perks wasn't in the mood for festivities – she had been simmering ever since the Charms lesson and now she loaded food on her plate with a grievous look on her face, seemingly intent on eating her meal without so much as a quantum of merriment. Harry and Draco looked at her with concern but were hesitant to disturb her, perhaps afraid she would get angry with them as well. It was no wonder - they had come to know her as quiet and collected, sometimes sarcastic but usually calm. The way she had chewed out Ron earlier had been very uncharacteristic of her.<p>

The truth was that Sally reacted so strongly to Ron's blunder because she believed she knew, on some level, what Hermione Granger must be going through. Granted, she didn't exactly _like _Granger – in fact Sally thought she was an annoying mouthy show-off – but that didn't mean she couldn't sympathize. Hermione, Sally suspected, was really a very lonely girl. As the saying went, it took one to know one.

Sally-Anne Perks was a half-blood born to a wizard father and muggle mother and while she had always known about the magical world, her parents had decided to let her grow up among muggles until she turned eleven and her admittance letter from Hogwarts arrived in the mail. That hadn't stopped her from reading her father's books or the newspaper with the moving photographs, however, and as a result she grew up with one foot in either world. Naturally, her mother and father had made her promise never to speak a word about magic and wizards to the muggle children at her school, and as a young child Sally had found it very difficult to keep this promise - it was simply a very big secret for one small girl to keep inside. Never the less, she was an obedient child who didn't want to disappoint her parents, so she tried her very best not to speak about the things she knew.

She tried so hard, in fact, that eventually she didn't speak much at all, be it about magic or other things. Instead she listened and observed and remembered, and filed away everything new she learned in her neatly organized mind. As such she grew into a quiet and serious girl with uncanny observational skills and a talent for avoiding attention. Sally Perks, the girl who could keep a secret.

Unfortunately, she found herself having a hard time making friends because of this. She only listened to others, absorbing their feelings and personal thoughts but never shared her own. The adults hardly noticed her and when they did, they simply assumed she was shy. The muggle children found her distant at best and unnerving at worst. The day she boarded the Hogwarts Express, she didn't leave any close friends behind.

At the sorting ceremony, Sally had been expecting her father's House, Hufflepuff, but had hoped for Ravenclaw. Keeping with her habit of secrecy, however, she had told the hat of neither hopes nor expectations. She had been somewhat surprised to be placed in Slytherin, as she was neither a pure-blood not considered herself especially ambitious or cunning, but the hat had sorted children for almost a thousand years so she figured it probably knew what it was doing. At any rate, Slytherin House had thankfully not turned out to be quite the den of scum and villainy it had been rumoured to be, and being sorted into the same house as two of the resident celebrities had been a nice bonus as well. Sally still felt a bit guilty about more or less forcing herself into Harry and Draco's company, but now that she no longer had to keep her nature as a witch a secret, she was fiercely determined to remedy the deplorable lack of friendship her young life had suffered so far.

She still found it somewhat difficult to really speak to people, though, and she still evaluated and categorized everyone she met almost automatically: Harry Potter, rash and impulsive when challenged, yet strangely meek in the presence of adults; Draco Malfoy, brilliant for his age, though perhaps not quite as clever as he thought he was and somewhat lacking in nerve; Hermione Granger; amazingly intelligent but with no people skills, clumsily reaching out to others by trying to impress them; Ginny Weasley, brash, charismatic, talented but not too bright, a born Gryffindor; Ron Weasley, a rude, dim-witted, pea-brained, clumsy screw-up with the manners of a baboon and all the sensitivity of a shovel to the face.

Such was Sally Perk's conclusions as she shoved pumpkin pie and baked potatoes unto her plate and she radiated such an aura of surliness that nobody felt safe to approach her.

Well, almost nobody, because the next moment she felt a hand on her shoulder and a freckled face leaned in to smile at her. It belonged to a small Slytherin girl with brown eyes and dark hair in braided pigtails. "Pee-eerks," she said in a sing-song voice, "this may surprise you, but you're at a party. Try to cheer up, your face is scaring the bats."

"Sorry," said Sally, "I didn't mean to put a damper at the festivities."

"Look at you, girl," the newcomer chuckled. "How can you be in such a bad mood when you're enjoying the company of both the Boy Who Lived and the heir of House Malfoy?" She smiled brightly at the boys. "Hello, by the way."

Sally sighed but managed to relax a bit. "Harry, Draco, you've met Lisa Turpin?"

"Call me Bandit," Turpin said. "Everyone does."

"Really?" Draco said. "That's an odd nickname for a girl."

"Oh, I get it," Harry said. "Bandit, as in Dick Turpin?"

The girl looked puzzled. "Who's Dick Turpin?"

"They call her Bandit," Sally explained, "because she has a habit of ambushing people while they are minding their own business."

"Speaking of ambushes, I saw you nearly bite the head off Ronald Weasley earlier," Turpin said with a grin, elbowing Sally. "I don't suppose there's anything you want to share with me, Perks?"

"That's a private matter," Sally said. "Besides, what will you give me in return?"

Turpin lowered her voice to a conspiratory whisper, but still spoke loud enough for Harry and Draco to hear: "I heard from Greengrass who heard from Parkinson who'd overheard some Ravenclaws, saying Hermione Granger has locked herself in the girl's bathroom and refuses to come out. They say she's been in there crying all afternoon."

Harry and Draco exchanged a look of discomfort upon hearing this and Sally gripped her plate a little bit harder. _Ron Weasley,_ she thought,_ you colossal dunderhead!_

"So, what have you got for me?" Turpin asked. "Come on, Sally, you're my best girl."

Sally sighed. "Oh, all right then. I heard that a while back, some Gryffindors really made it into the forbidden corridor on the third floor."

Turpin's eyes widened. "No! Who? Give me names, Perks. Was it Ginny Weasley?"

"Maybe..."

"Oh, this is big! I owe you one, Perks." Turpin grinned and gave the boys a nod. "It was nice chatting with you two, but I gotta run now." And off she ran, probably to find her fellow rumour-mongers.

Sally looked down at her food. She sighed. "You know what? I'm not that hungry anymore."

"Where are you going?" Harry asked as she rose from the table.

"I haven't decided," Sally said. "Either to find Granger and talk to her, or find Weasley and punch him in the mouth."

As she wandered off, Harry turned to Draco. "Do you have any idea what's going on?"

"They're girls," Draco said, helping himself to some baked potatoes. "Honestly, some days I don't think I'll ever understand them."

Harry shrugged and was just about to dig in as well when...

_"TROLL IN THE DUNGEON!"_

Everyone turned and stared as Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall with his turban askew. He ran all the way up to the teacher's table and stopped in front of Dumbledore's chair, struggling to catch his breath. "Troll in the dungeon," he gasped. "Thought you ought to know..."

For a moment everyone were frozen in place, then the entire hall erupted in a chaotic mess of panic and screaming. The uproar only ceased when Dumbledore rose from his seat and called for silence, his voice greatly amplified by magic.

"Prefects, please escort your houses back to the dormitories in an orderly manner," he rumbled. "Teachers, you will follow me to the dungeons. Let us all try to remain calm and not panic."

The prefects immediately rose to the occasion. "Slytherins, come with me!" Gemma Farley said. "We'll be fine once we make it to the common room."

Over at the Gryffindor table, Percy Weasley was now in his right element. "Follow me, Gryffindors! First years, stick together! No need to fear the troll if you do as I say! Make way, prefect here!"

"Having fun, Weasley?" Gemma asked him with a wry grin.

"You know me, Farley," Percy returned the grin, "I do love a good crisis."

Gemma laughed. "Too bad you're such a stick in the mud the rest of the time."

Throughout all this, nobody noticed Sally Perks slipping away and vanishing in the confusion. She was very good at not being noticed.

* * *

><p>"How could a troll get into the castle?" Harry asked Draco as they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs.<p>

"No idea," Draco said. He was looking rather nervous. "They're supposed to be really stupid. Somebody must have let it in on purpose, but can't imagine why anyone would want to do that."

Harry looked around. "Have you seen Sally? She doesn't seem to be with the others."

Draco frowned and shook his head. "I don't see her anywhere."

_"Pssst!" _came a hiss. They turned their heads to see Ginny Weasley skulking behind a statue. "Have you two seen Ron?" she asked when they came closer. "I didn't see him with the other Hufflepuffs."

"We haven't seen him," Harry said. "You haven't seen Sally by any chance?"

"The girl with the glasses?" Ginny shook her head. "Can't say I have."

"They've probably just run ahead of the others," Draco said. "Look, we should all hurry back to our common rooms as well."

"Wait!" Something had just occurred to Harry. "Hermione Granger!"

"What about her?" Ginny asked.

"She locked herself in the girls bathroom," Harry said. "She doesn't know about the troll."

Ginny frowned, then nodded. "Right. You two get back to your common room, I'll find Granger and warn her."

"You can't go alone!" Harry said. "We're coming with you."

"We are?" Draco asked, but found that Ginny and Harry had already ducked into an abandoned side-corridor taking them away from the the other students. Draco sighed and followed them. "Here we go again."

They had just cleared a corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them. "Percy!" Ginny hissed. She pulled Harry and Draco in behind a large stone griffin where they shrank into the shadows. But when they peeked out from their hiding place, they saw not Percy but Professor Quirrell. He crossed the corridor with determined steps and disappeared from view.

"That's odd," Harry whispered. "He looked exhausted just a moment ago. Now where is he going?"

"Harry," Draco said, "I think he's heading for the third floor."

"Never mind that," Ginny said. "Here's our chance."

As Quirrell's footsteps faded, the trio crept along the next corridor a quietly as possible. Once the Defence professor was out of hearing range they started jogging down the hallways with Ginny in the lead again.

"The girl's bathroom is just up ahead," she said.

"Do you smell something?" Harry asked. There was indeed an unpleasant smell in the air, like a mixture of unwashed socks and a public toilet in desperate need of cleaning. The next moment they heard a loud crashing and the sound of girls screaming.

"I think the troll has left the dungeons," Ginny said.

"Then there's no time to lose!" Harry said, but noticed that Draco had stopped dead in his tracks. "Draco? Come on."

"I... I can't," Draco said. His face had turned white and his hands were shaking. "I can't go on, I'm sorry."

Ginny looked at him in anger and disgust. "What, you're just giving up because you're scared, Malfoy?"

"Look, I'm sorry! Okay?" Draco looked genuinely tormented. "I just happen to have this completely rational fear of trolls, that's all. I'm not as brave as you two, I... I just can't!"

"It's okay," Harry said, even though he couldn't help but feel disappointed. "Draco, just... Just go back to the common room with the others, we'll handle this."

"Yeah, run away and hide," Ginny spat. "I shouldn't have expected more from a Malfoy anyway."

She ran ahead. Harry threw one last glance at Draco. "Sorry," he said and followed her.

Draco was left standing alone in the corridor, his hands still shaking. "Idiot," he mumbled. "Don't apologize..."

* * *

><p><em>A few minutes earlier...<em>

In the girl's bathroom, the door to one of the wooden stalls was unlocked and Hermione Granger stepped out, carefully looking around to make sure she was alone.

She had been crying for a long time now – the powerful yet voiceless crying of someone genuinely hurt. She had now reached the point where had started to run out of tears and while she still felt terrible, the turmoil inside was finally settling down. Still sniffling, she poured some water from a tap and splashed her face, which of course did nothing to ease the redness of her eyes. She looked at herself in the mirror and concluded that she was a terrible mess.

It shouldn't have been like this. Hermione had always felt out of place in her old school – the other children had either teased or avoided her no matter how hard she tried to impress them. She had been overjoyed the day she found out she was a witch. When that wonderful letter with the green ink arrived in the Granger mailbox and turned her entire world upside down, she had envisioned a place where she could finally fit in, a place where her talents would at last be appreciated. Hogwarts was supposed to have been different.

But nothing had changed. She quickly learned that muggles did not have the monopoly on jealousy – or bullying, for that matter – and apparently there was such a thing as being too smart even in House Ravenclaw. Only Luna Lovegood had offered her unquestioned companionship, but that was a small comfort as Luna was an even greater outcast than Hermione herself. So far, she had been able to release her despair in short bursts, but Ron Weasley's careless words had been the final straw and now everything had come out at once.

Finding herself tearing up again, Hermione quickly wiped her eyes and blew her nose with a piece of tissue paper. She heard a door creaking open behind her and she turned around to see Luna Lovegood entering the room. "Hello," said the blond girl.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked angrily. "I thought I told you to leave me alone when I'm sad."

"I know," Luna said, "but I've never seen you this upset before. I'm worried, Hermione. I want to know if I can help you in any way."

Hermione pouted. "I'm not in the mood for more of your imaginary animals, if that's what you mean."

Luna frowned. "Hermione..."

"Oh, stop it! I'm fine!" Hermione exclaimed. "Look, I've already stopped crying. I just don't want to be around people right now. Just leave me alone. Go back to the feast and have fun."

Luna shook her head. "I don't want to. Eating alone isn't fun."

"You didn't seem to have any trouble having fun with Potter earlier!" Hermione snapped, then immediately regretted it. "...Sorry. That's unfair," she whispered. "Forget I said that."

Luna gave her a forlorn, pleading look. "You shouldn't let that Hufflepuff boy get to you."

"Well, he did get to me!" Hermione clenched her hands hard. "He got to me good. And he's right, you know? Nobody likes me. No matter how much I try nobody wants to be friends with me."

"I'm your friend," Luna said. "Aren't I?"

"I know, I know," Hermione sighed. "Yes, of course you are, Luna. It's just... I just..."

"You just want normal friends as well?" Luna guessed.

Hermione jerked and stared at her in horror. "What? No! That's... That's not what I..."

"It's all right," Luna said, smiling wistfully. "I know what the others say about me, but I'm used to it by now. I guess I'm not easy to be friends with, and I'm sorry about that. I'm just glad you at least put up with me, even if it was just out of pity..."

"Stop!" Hermione said. She was crying again. "Just stop it. Dammit, Luna, that's _my _line! You were the one who had to put up with _me!_ I've... I've been such a terrible friend!"

"Oh, I don't think so," Luna said.

"Yes I have!" Hermione bawled. "I've been selfish and self-centred and unappreciative and... and..." She threw her arms around Luna and hugged her tightly. "I'm sorry, Luna! I'm so sorry!"

Luna patted her weeping friend on the shoulder, her own eyes having turned moist. "There, there. It's all right."

For a few moments they stood there, silent save for Hermione's sobs and whimpers. Then the door slammed open and a slightly winded Sally Perks rushed in. "There you are!"

Hermione abruptly let go of Luna and glared at the intruder. "Perks? What are_ you_ doing here?"

"There's no time," Sally said. "You have to get out of here. There's a..."

"Excuse me!?" Hermione snapped. "We are having a private moment here! Do you mind?"

"Well, maybe we should go somewhere else?" Luna whispered to Hermione. "This is a public bathroom, after all."

"Listen," Sally tried again. "That's not..."

"No!" Hermione said. "No, we will _not _go somewhere else! We are two good friends sharing tender emotional moment and I refuse to let some... some _Slytherin girl _burst in here and..."

_"Dammit Granger!"_ Sally exploded, and suddenly the words were just welling out of her. "For once in your life will you _shut your mouth_ and _listen_ when someone else is trying to tell you something? All you ever do is talk and talk and _talk_, because you're Hermione Granger, the girl who knows everything except when to shut up! You know why you have a hard time making friends? It's because you are _always talking _but you _never listen!_ This isn't about you and Lovegood, or Ron Weasley, or any of the mindless stupid gossip floating around this place! This is _important! _I'm trying to tell you that there's a... a..." She fell silent as she realized Hermione and Luna weren't listening. Instead they were staring at something over her shoulders with looks of abject horror. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Sally realized that her own tirade had made her deaf to the sound of heavy shuffling footsteps behind her, though only later would she realize the irony of it all.

She spun around and saw the troll – twelve feet tall, dull granite grey with a small bald head on top of a great lumpy body like a boulder. It had long arms and short legs, thick as tree trunks with horny flat feet, and it dragged a huge wooden club along the floor. It slowly trudged into the bathroom, peering around and waggling it's long ears.

The three girls quickly backed away from the creature until their backs were pressed against the bathroom wall. There was no escape.

"Troll," Hermione said. "There's a troll."

"I was trying to tell you," said Sally unhappily.

The troll growled at them and stomped closer, lifting its club menacingly.

"Wand!" Hermione mumbled, searching her gown. "Oh no, I must have left it in the common room!"

Luna and Sally had produced their own wands, but weren't sure what to do with them. Quirrell, unfortunately, had yet to teach the first years any useful spells for fighting trolls. "They hate sunlight, right?" Sally whispered to Luna, struggling to keep her willow wand from shaking. "I don't suppose you can cast Sunflare on it?"

"I don't know that spell," Luna said, trying to keep her voice steady. "T-Try turning it into a pink kitten with green butterfly wings."

Sally grimaced. "I don't know that spell."

The troll roared and advanced. It swung its club, smashing the bathroom stalls into pieces, knocking sinks off the wall. Water sprayed out of destroyed pipes and the three girls screamed at the top of their lungs.

A dislodged water tap hit the troll in the head. It paused its rampage and turned its head to see who had thrown it. At the door to the corridor stood Ron Weasley with his fists clenched at his sides. He looked terrified, yet determined.

Sally stared as if she couldn't believe her eyes. "Weasley?"

"Ron!" Hermione gasped.

"Get..." Ron mumbled. Then he shouted: _"Get away from them, you big dumb brute!"_

The troll stared him for a few moments, blinking its mean little eyes. But apparently Ron wasn't very interesting because it ignored him and turned its attention back to the girls. "Hey!" Ron, suddenly angry, picked up a broken metal pipe from the floor. "Don't turn your back at me, you walking heap of dung!" And then he did something that was both very brave and very stupid. With a great running jump, he managed to clamber unto the troll's back and hit it as hard as he could over the head with the pipe.

Amazingly, the troll turned around to see what had hit him, roaring angrily. It was apparently so stupid it didn't notice Ron hanging on to its back. Driven berserk by its own confusion it looked around furiously, swinging its club at random. Ron found that he could somewhat steer the creature with further blows on the head, with the downside that each blow made it more and more furious.

At that moment Harry and Ginny burst into the room, side by side and wands at the ready. They paused for a moment staring in disbelief at the scene in front of them.

"Ron!" Ginny cried, aghast at the sight of her brother riding the troll. "What it the world are you doing!?"

"I don't know!" Ron shouted. "I didn't think this through! Do something! Anything!"

Ginny and Harry looked at each other. "I... I don't know what to do!" Ginny said.

Harry started to look around the demolished bathroom, thinking furiously, trying to find something they could use. _There has to be something. A strategy. I need to think of a strategy. _He looked at the floor. It was drenched in water spraying from broken pipes. He had an idea.

"Ginny! Ron!" he yelled. "I need you to distract it!"

"Can do!" Ginny said. _"Oi, ugly!"_

While the troll focused on Ginny, Harry attempted to run past it along the wall to reach the girls at the other end of the room. Seeing him in the corner of its eye, the troll attempted to turn and swing at him with the club, but another hard wallop from Ron's pipe made it turn again and now Ginny's wand shot bright sparks into its face, confusing it further.

Harry cleared the troll and ran straight to Hermione, pressing his own wand into her hand. "Granger! Can you make ice?" he asked frantically. "I need you to cast a spell that makes ice!"

Hermione looked completely stunned and paralysed from fright. "W-What? Yes, but why...?"

"There's no time!" Harry pointed at the wet floor at the troll's feet. "Do it, now!"

Somehow, being asked to perform a spell seemed to snap Hermione out of her shock. She nodded and pointed the wand at the floor. "Glacius!" she shouted. A cold blast of air erupted from the tip, freezing the water almost immediately and covering the entire floor with a thin layer of ice and frost.

The troll had attempted to chase Ginny but now found itself loosing its footing on the slippery surface. It swayed and tried to regain its balance. Ron was forced to discard his improvised truncheon, holding on for dear life.

"Here's our chance! Everyone, tackle it!" Harry told the girls, and as if they had read his mind, they all joined him in a joint charge. While they could only barely budge the troll, it was enough to cause it to stumble forward, wildly skidding forward on the ice. "Ginny, get out of the way!" Harry remembered to shout.

Seeing the huge troll careen towards her on unsteady feet, Ginny looked around for a way to escape. Then she drew a deep breath, ran towards the troll and somehow managed to slide across the frozen floor between its legs. Just as she cleared it, Ron finally lost his grip and fell. Ginny had just enough time to reach out at catch him, breaking his fall somewhat.

Completely out of control, the troll crashed straight into the opposite wall with a loud bang that made the room tremble. It fell over and struggled to get back up, aiming a disoriented swing with the club in the Weasleys's general direction. But Ron had whipped his wand out and now cried out the first spell he could think of: _"Wingardium Leviosa!"_

The club suddenly flew out of the troll's hand. It rose into the air a few feet, turned over slowly and dropped back down. It hit the troll square in the head with a sickening crack and the creature's eyes crossed just before it fell back down on the floor and stopped moving.

Harry was shaking and breathing hard, his pulse racing. Ron and Ginny were still sitting on the frozen floor and Ron was staring at his wand as if he could scarcely believe what he had just done. It was Hermione who spoke first: "Is it... dead?" She looked over at the troll.

"I don't think so," Harry said. "It's just knocked out." He walked over to Ginny and Ron and helped them on their feet. "We need to stop meeting like this," he told Ginny.

Ginny chuckled. "Are you sure you're not supposed to be a Gryffindor?" Then she suddenly frowned and turned to point at Ron. "You! That's was insanely dangerous! What where you thinking!?"

Ron looked a bit awkward. "Well, basically I just thought: What would Ginny do? And that seemed like th_ooouff!"_

Ginny had interrupted him with a well-aimed punch to the stomach. As he bent over from the blow, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him hard. Ron was speechless, though if it was from the punch or the hug was hard to tell.

"You really worried me, you idiot," Ginny said.

Harry felt a pat on his arm and turned to see Sally smiling at him. "That was brilliant, Harry," he said. "And very brave. I owe you one."

"We all do, I think," Luna said.

"I'm just glad it actually worked," Harry admitted.

"But how could you possibly know I could cast the Glacio charm?" Hermione asked him.

"I didn't," Harry said. "But you have all the course books memorized and you're better at charms than anyone else. So I figured if anyone here knew it, it'd be you."

He had expected her to look smug like she usually did. But to his surprise, instead Hermione just blushed and actually looked a bit embarrassed. "W-Well, thanks for the confidence, then," she said.

"Hold on, that reminds me," Ron said. "There's something I came her to say."

He approached Hermione and cleared his throat, suddenly looking immensely embarrassed. "M-Miss Granger," he stammered, "I'm very sorry for what I said before! It was very rude and mean thing to say and I'm a big insensitive oaf for saying it!" His ears were glowing red as he finished his apology, but he let out a sigh of relief having gotten it over with.

For a moment, Hermione just stared at him in open bafflement. "...You attacked a full-grown mountain troll because you wanted to tell me that?" she finally asked.

Ron glanced at the unconscious troll. "I... guess so?"

A snort escaped Hermione and she suddenly started laughing so hard her shoulders shook. "Apology... accepted..."

Her laugher seemed contagious, because soon the others joined in as well – Harry, Ginny, Luna, and Ron, they were all laughing so their sides ached, slapping each other on the shoulders, relieved and overjoyed to have survived.

_"What on Earth has happened here!?" _cried a familiar voice. The laughter died down as the first-years turned to see McGonagall storm into the room. She was followed by Snape, who was leading Draco, and behind them came Professors Quirrell, Flitwick and Sprout. Quirrell prodded the dormant troll with his shoe, looking impressed. "I say..."

"I couldn't just go back to the common room," Draco explained to Harry. "So I decided to bring the teachers here."

"Clearly, Malfoy is the only one of you with any sense in his head," said Snape, giving Harry and Sally a piercing look.

Next to him, McGonagall looked angrier than any of them had ever seen her before. "What in all the world were you thinking?" she said in cold fury. "You are all lucky you weren't killed! Why aren't you in your dormitories? Miss Weasley, did you put them up to this? There better be a very good explanation for this, or so help me..."

Hermione stepped forward. "It's all my fault, Professor."

Flitwick gasped. He looked genuinely shocked. "Miss Granger?"

"I've read about trolls," Hermione said, hanging her head, "and I thought I could handle one, so I went looking for it..."

"_We _went looking for it," Luna quickly said, stepping forward to stand next to Hermione. "Hermione told me she wanted to look for the troll. I thought it was a very sane and rational idea at the time, so I encouraged her."

Flitwick and McGonagall looked like they couldn't believe what they were hearing. Snape simply looked like he didn't believe what he was hearing. He glanced at Sally. "And you, Perks?"

"Yeah, I also wanted to have a shot at the troll," said Sally casually. She pointed her thumb at the Ravenclaw girls. "I thought I could get it before these two. "

Snape sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. "But of course you did."

"Anyway," Hermione said, "if it wasn't for Ron, Harry and Ginny showing up to save us, all three of us would be dead by now."

"Well, we were lucky," Ginny said with a shrug.

"Yeah, plus it was mostly Ron," Harry said. "He was fighting it single-handedly when we showed up. It was amazing!"

"Don't listen to him," Ron protested. "He's the one who figured out how to beat it."

Snape raised his hand. "Enough, I think we get the picture."

"You foolish girls!" McGonagall said. "How could you even think about tackling a mountain troll on your own?

"I must say I am very disappointed," Flitwick said, shaking his head sadly. "Especially in you, Miss Granger, I expected so much better from you. Five points will be taken from Ravenclaw for this."

"Five points from Slytherin as well," Snape said. "Bad form, Perks."

Professor Sprout stepped forward. She was a squat and round little witch with curly grey hair. "Now, now," she said. "While we are talking points, surely we should be rewarding tonight's heroics as well?"

"I suppose not many first-years could have taken on a mountain troll and lived to tell about it," McGonagall said. She gave Ginny a nod. "Five points for Gryffindor. For sheer dumb luck, if nothing else."

"Five points for Hufflepuff," Sprout said, beaming a smile at Ron.

"Five points for Slytherin," Snape said. "But you can thank Mr Malfoy for that, Potter. Next time, come to me directly."

Meanwhile, Quirrell had knelt down and drawn a finger across the icy floor, which had already started to thaw. "A question, if I may? Who cast this Glacio charm?"

Hermione hesitated, then replied: "Um, I did, Professor"

"I suspected as much," Quirrell said and stood up. "In that case, Ravenclaw can have one point on me." He glanced at Flitwick. "I trust there's no objection?"

Flitwick sighed and waved his hand. "Fine. I do believe these girls have learned their lesson anyway."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione mumbled.

"Don't worry about the troll, we'll take it from here," Quirrell said. "You should all get back to your common rooms. The students are continuing the Halloween feast in their own Houses, and you have all deserved some food and rest."

The six first-years looked at each other and now realized they would have to part, each returning to their respective common room - they were, after all, not of the same House. Yet after the ordeal they had just endured together, there was something wistful about parting.

"Well," Ginny said. "See you guys around, I guess."

"Yeah," Harry said. "Good night, then."

"Sleep well, Harry," said Luna.

"Thanks again, Ron," Hermione said.

Ron blushed. "Don't mention it."

"Let's talk more tomorrow," Sally suggested.

They finally parted. When Harry passed the group of teachers bent over the troll, he felt a pulse of heat through his lightning scar. In the corner of his eye, he saw Quirrell glancing at him with his single eye, a slight smirk on his face. Harry tried to ignore the shiver. By the time he and his friends made it back to the Slytherin dungeon, all he felt was hunger and weariness. He ate as much as he could and collapsed in his bed.

The next day, of course, the entire school knew about the Great Halloween Battle; the historic event where six first-years from all four Houses had joined forces to defeat a mountain troll in the girls bathroom, and had been found laughing about it afterwards.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: In the book, the door leading to the forbidden corridor holding the murderous three-headed monster dog could be unlocked by a talented first-year. In the movie, the door to the corridor apparently wasn't locked in the first place. Hogwarts security really is terrible.<p>

I've found no mention in canon about three-headed dogs being resistant to spells, but I took the liberty of tossing that in since I could see no other reason why the traitor teacher couldn't just magically kill Fluffy or turn him into a teapot or something.

If you have enjoyed the story so far, please leave a review, for quick gratification is the fuel of my creativity.


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